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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25972333">Drawn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/New54321/pseuds/New54321'>New54321</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Power [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wynonna Earp (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe, F/F, Flirting, Lesbian Sex, Magic, Minor Violence, Sex, Smut, Smut in Chapter 8 my gentle pervs.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:20:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>55,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25972333</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/New54321/pseuds/New54321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Waverly Earp has had the same recurring dream for most of her life. A man – always the same man – running towards her. Telling her things. Secrets she can never remember when she wakes up. Until the morning of her 21st birthday, when she wakes for the first time with the man’s parting words ringing in her ears.</p><p>“You have power too, my girl.”</p><p>Who is the man in her dreams? What is this power that she holds? And can the very alluring new redhead in town help her handle the most magical of her problems?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Power [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885075</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>510</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Power</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey all. Hope everyone is well, and keeping safe and sane, and enjoying Season 4!</p><p>This is certainly not my first fic, but it's a little different to the things I've done before. I would love feedback, whichever way, please do leave your comments! They're fuel!</p><p>If you want to find me on Twitter I'm @StaceyE706 =)</p><p>Huge thanks due with this fic to Artemis_17, for putting up with a million questions about continuity and plot points, and for adorably grabbing her notebook every time I sent a new chapter! Also thanks to Namaenai for taking the time to read and review when I should really have been working on betaing hers. Check both authors out if you haven't already!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>He looks the same as he has done all her life. Older though, and tired. He’s running towards her as he does every night, and all she can see is him, and the dark and the grey of the skies around him. He’s got a gentle face; handsome, but for the lines of exhaustion around his piercing blue eyes. His words sound whispered, though she knows he must be shouting to reach her through the distance and the air that feels so thick around them. He’s shouting secrets that she knows she won’t remember when she wakes; she never does. Tonight though, he reaches her. He’s never reached her before, he’s never even come close. But now he’s standing before her, his eyes searching her own as if he knows them, and she can see his words reflected in them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m here. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m going to protect you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Everything is for you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m not going to stop fighting. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His hands cup her cheeks and she shivers, clinging on to his image as it starts to fade, and her muscles start to twitch. His piercing gaze lingers in her consciousness, along with the whispered sounds of his parting words. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You have power too, my girl.” </em>
</p><p>Waverly woke twisted in her sheets, the layer of sweat coating her body acting as a tell-tale sign that she had spent another night amidst her recurring dream. Something felt different today though, and the image that usually faded the moment she woke felt clearer in her mind somehow. She rose a hand to her cheek, the overly warm flesh tingling, almost a physical memory of the man’s touch. Waverly shook her head, screwing her eyes shut as she tried to disentangle herself from her dream. It was the same one that she’d had time and time again, for as long as she could ever remember. The same man, running. Always towards her, and though she never remembered what he said and never saw the world around him, something in his urgency told her that he ran from something dangerous. She knew, every time, that his goal was to protect her. The words he told her always seemed so important as they hit her ears, but with every waking morning they slipped from her consciousness, and try as she might she had never once been able to remember them. Until now. Just a few words, but it was more than she’d ever had to cling to before. Waverly’s hands trembled slightly as she ran them through her hair, her heart pounding in her chest. The words he spoke as his image faded from her sleep addled brain rang clear still in her waking thoughts. <em>You have power too, my girl.</em></p><p>Waverly sighed, throwing the duvet back and dragging herself from her bed, padding towards her bathroom. She <em> knew </em> it was a dream. Just a dream, and she knew it was crazy to spend as much time thinking about what it meant as she always had, but for so many years now, she’d been unable to shake the feeling that something felt too real about them. Something too... <em> familiar </em> in the gentle face of the man she saw. She had never admitted it to anyone else, but Waverly couldn’t help but feel like she knew him. In another life, maybe. Or another universe. She had spent so many mornings wondering who the face belonged to and what he meant to her. A star-crossed lover, perhaps? Or a partner in crime? A distant relative, or a tutor, or a guide? But this morning she had her first real clues. What did he mean, <em> power?</em> And why did he call her his girl?</p><p>Waverly studied her face in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Today was her 21st birthday. She wondered if anyone would remember it this year. She didn’t think she could remember the last time that anyone had, and whilst she’d grown used to it as she’d gotten older, it had never softened the blow. It felt a little self-indulgent, but Waverly couldn’t help but feel frustrated that she’d given so much to those she loved, and had always been so empathetic to those around her, picking up on their emotions and their needs even when they weren’t spoken aloud. Yet her own needs always seemed to fly beneath the radar somehow. A forgotten birthday every single year was just the cherry on the never-remembered cake. Waverly let the water run warmer than she usually did, the steam helping to clear her mind, draining away the self-pity and the lingering haze of her dream. She took extra care in her appearance as she dressed, determined to celebrate her birthday even if she had to do so alone. </p><p>She felt different this morning. Stronger. Her body felt lighter than usual, her head held high as she made her way down the stairs. She beamed, a childlike excitement washing over her as she caught the familiar smell of onions, potato, and frying oil. She rushed a little faster towards the kitchen, her mouth watering in anticipation. Her sister was never up at this time, and certainly never cooked breakfast. Was she up for her? Did this mean Wynonna had remembered her birthday? She skidded into the kitchen, her socks sliding on the newly polished wooden floors, and halted as she spotted Wynonna bent over the stove, muttering under her breath. Waverly felt a rush of affection for her sister in that moment. Always the town pariah as a troubled teen, Wynonna had packed a bag several years ago and run, leaving behind her dark past, her judgmental peers, and her younger sister for a life on the sands of Eastern Europe. Until just under a year ago, when she and a well loved Harley-Davidson had rolled back into Purgatory, and back into Waverly's life. It had taken some time and some work for the damage in the sisters' relationship to feel truly patched, but Wynonna had exceeded Waverly's expectations, making an entirely unexpected career for herself in the police department, and Waverly could not be more proud. </p><p>Right now, her sister had her phone propped up against the wall on the counter, and Waverly could see the vegan recipe that donned its screen.</p><p>“Do my eyes deceive me...” Waverly sprang up behind Wynonna, placing her hands on her sister’s hips as she strained to see the pan over her shoulder. “Or is this the infamous Wynonna Earp, cooking her baby sister a birthday breakfast?”</p><p>“Oh, <em> shit </em>, Wave...”</p><p>Waverly’s heart sank as her sister spun to face her, the shock and the guilt instantly clear in her piercing blue eyes and her wavering voice. Wynonna was nothing if not honest, and everything in her response showed she really hadn’t known. The rejection and the disappointment clenched hard in Waverly’s stomach but she swallowed it down, shaking her head with a forced chuckle and a dismissive wave of her hand.</p><p>“It’s okay...” Waverly kept her voice steady, turning away to set the table so that Wynonna wouldn’t see the hurt that she knew would be reflected in her eyes.</p><p>“No, it’s <em> not </em> okay.” Wynonna shot back, cutting Waverly’s words short. “I promised you I’d be better at this. I’m sorry, Babygirl.”</p><p>“So...” Waverly took a deep breath, composing herself, and turned back to face Wynonna. “If you didn’t remember, then you just decided to cook me breakfast for... no reason?”</p><p>“Kind of.” Wynonna shrugged, her voice soft and her demeanour almost awkward as she met Waverly’s gaze. “I wanted to say thank you for moving back in here with me, and helping me make this place a home again. I know it hasn't been the easiest ride.”</p><p>Wynonna dropped her eyes, turning back to her pan, and Waverly suppressed a sigh. Her sister never had been great at expressing gratitude or emotion, and normally she would probe but this time she was happy to let her close off. Moving back into their long deserted childhood home had been hard for both of them, but they had put a lot of work into renovations and the house was finally starting to feel like a home they could be happy in. Waverly could tell Wynonna was making a real effort, but she was fighting too hard to push away the feelings of disappointment that forced their way through her chest to be able to fully appreciate the gesture. She allowed a moment of quiet to settle over them both, before she couldn’t hold the question that burned in her mind back any longer.</p><p>“Wynonna...” Waverly took a deep breath, leaning back against the counter to ground herself as her emotions started to take their hold, her words catching in her throat. “Do you remember us <em> ever </em> celebrating my birthday?”</p><p>“I...” Wynonna spun quickly, her eyes wide with surprise as they roamed her sister’s face. “I... don’t... I mean, my memory is...”</p><p>Wynonna scoffed, shrugging her shoulders dismissively, but the traces of guilt and regret that crossed her glistening eyes told Waverly everything she needed to know. She swallowed hard, her stomach sinking.</p><p>“I’m twenty-one today. And I can’t remember a single time when we ever celebrated it. I tried <em> so </em> hard when Daddy was alive, and when Mama was around. But no-one ever remembered it.” Waverly shook her head and folded her arms across her body, blinking back the tears that stung in her eyes. She refused to let them fall. “Do you know I’ve never even seen a baby photo of myself?”</p><p>“Mama and Daddy just didn’t really do photos, Wave.” Wynonna stepped towards her, her voice low and reassuring. There was something in its tone that was so reminiscent of the protective older sister that Wynonna had been when they were young, that Waverly felt her walls crumble around her. Wynonna smirked, rolling her eyes as she continued. “There’s just that one single photo of the three of us, in that dusty as fuck frame behind the TV.”</p><p>“It’s of you and Willa.” Waverly spoke quietly, her voice almost a whisper, dropping her eyes from Wynonna’s as she allowed the first few tears to fall.</p><p>“What?” Wynonna scrunched her face in confusion. “It’s of all three of us!”</p><p>“It’s of you and Willa, Wy.” Waverly met her sister’s eyes again, lifting her shoulders in a small shrug. “Before I was born.”</p><p>“Oh. Well shit.” Wynonna grimaced, shuffling awkwardly before taking a deep breath and stepping closer, resting her hands on Waverly’s shoulders. “Look, I know that I haven’t always been here. And I haven’t exactly started well now that I <em> am </em> here... but we’re gonna start setting this right baby sis, okay? Maybe it was a rocky start, but this is gonna be the best birthday ever! You’ll see. Starting with this breakfast!”</p><p>Wynonna spun with a flourish, gesturing towards the pan, her face falling as she took in the sight before her. Both women squealed, rushing to aid just as smoke began to billow high, and the wailing pitch of the newly installed smoke alarm rang out through the room.</p><p>“Ah <em> fuck. </em>” Wynonna prodded the mixture with her spoon, as Waverly wafted the screaming smoke alarm with a tea towel until it ceased its beeping. “So this is burned...”</p><p>“<em> You </em> can sort this mess out, Gordon Ramsey.” Waverly chuckled, leaning in to plant a kiss on her sister’s cheek. “And <em> I </em> will go and get coffee and donuts.”</p><p>“But I wanted to treat you!” Wynonna whined, calling after Waverly as she entered the hallway.</p><p>“It’s okay!” Waverly called back. She took a deep breath, collecting herself as she shrugged on her coat and grabbed her purse. “I could do with the walk.”</p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂        ꧁꧂        ꧁꧂        </p><p> </p><p>Waverly barely registered her surroundings as she entered the local coffee shop, her feet not needing conscious thought as they led her to join the short queue. Her mind felt a little chaotic, the events of her morning still pulling her brain in multiple directions. She couldn’t steer her thoughts away from her dream; wondering what the words meant, and what they changed in the various scenarios she had built in her head over the years. <em> You have power too, my girl. </em> Maybe in another life they were royalty? He was her King, and she was his Queen. Or his Princess! Or they were partners; leaders in some kind of political party, or even a rebellion?</p><p>“Well hurry up and <em> fix </em> it!”</p><p>The bark of a deep, raised voice broke through Waverly’s thoughts, and she snapped her head up to find its source, finally taking in the reality around her. A large, balding, slightly-too-sweaty-for-the-cool-weather, middle aged man was shouting at the server; a young girl whose flushed cheeks and wide eyes looked flustered and apologetic.</p><p>“I’m sorry sir, it was a simple mistake, I’ll have the new one to you right away.”</p><p>The girl maintained her composure and her professionalism, despite the clear embarrassment and discomfort on her face, and Waverly instantly felt sympathy for her.</p><p>“I don’t really have <em> time </em> for your <em> mistakes </em>!” The man snapped back, his volume still higher than was necessary. “Some of us have places to be.”</p><p>Waverly felt her fists clench, her jaw tightening in anger as she watched the scene unfold. The man gestured as he spoke, and Waverly drifted her eyes to his reddened, chubby fingers, gripping at the paper cup holding the supposedly offensive drink. She huffed out a breath, half irritation and half amusement as she imagined his grip tightening just a little too hard on the flimsy container, and the liquid within bursting over him. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the cup, and she squeezed her fingers on instinct, almost as if to squish it with her own fist. She felt them begin to tingle with the effort, and she fought the urge to speak up and defend the server.</p><p>Everything happened so fast. The walls of the paper cup crushed inwards beneath the man’s fingers, the steaming liquid bursting over his hand and his clothes. Waverly gasped, her blood running cold and her body freezing in shock as the sounds of the man’s yelps and shouts rang out around her. She stared, wide eyed and slack jawed, her body trembling as she tried to process what had happened. Fear and guilt coursed through her as she fought the feeling that somehow this was <em> her </em> fault. She shook her head, slamming her eyes shut. <em> Ridiculous. </em> How could it possibly have been her fault? She’d imagined it, yes, but only because his fingers were gripping so tightly in the first place. Nothing to do with her. Of <em> course </em> it wasn’t, <em> why </em> was she even having this conversation with herself? This dream had her losing her mind, she was sure of it.</p><p>Waverly opened her eyes slowly, her fingers still trembling as she watched the man take his replacement drink and storm out of the shop, muttering as he went. She smiled reassuringly at the server as she placed her order, but she couldn’t help but feel shaken, the adrenaline of the morning taking over her body. She felt overwhelmed, and the need to get out of the shop was suddenly all consuming. She thanked the server, turning hastily towards the exit. She gasped, stumbling slightly as she halted just short of running headlong into the person behind her in the queue.</p><p>“Oh god, I’m <em> so </em> sorry.” Waverly gushed, feeling her cheeks redden as her flustered state heightened even further. She gripped tightly to her drinks tray, her eyes fixed on the cups, determined not to drop them as they wavered.</p><p>“Hey, it’s okay!” The stranger’s voice was soft, and the response carried no traces of irritation. “You didn’t get me, I kinda saw it coming so I stepped back.”</p><p>Waverly turned her eyes to the stranger for the first time, immediately feeling her breath hitch and her stomach pull, the anxiety that had been overwhelming her instantly replaced by something much warmer. The woman – the <em> officer </em> , if her uniform was anything to go by - was <em> beyond </em> gorgeous. She had deep, warm mocha eyes and her red hair looked insanely soft, and Waverly felt herself blush as her mind conjured images of running her hands through the tousled locks. The officer smiled, and Waverly's knees weakened as she took in the dimples that nestled in the woman’s cheeks.</p><p>“Well, then thank god for your intuition.” Waverly grinned, her voice effortlessly flirty, her panic-ridden state all but forgotten. “Saved my day.”</p><p>“Well, you know... playing the hero <em> is </em> what I’m paid to do.” The woman grinned, a hint of playful cockiness in her voice as she gestured towards her uniform. “I’m Nicole.”</p><p>Nicole extended a hand, and then withdrew it with a blush as Waverly smiled apologetically, nodding towards the drinks and bags of food that occupied both arms.</p><p>“I’m Waverly.” She bit her lip, suppressing a chuckle at the signs of flustered nerves creeping out from beneath the officer's confident exterior.</p><p>“<em> Waverly </em>...” Nicole repeated on a hushed breath, the tint on her cheeks growing deeper as the brunette smirked.</p><p>“Well...” Waverly dropped her eyes to Nicole’s lips for a fleeting moment, her stomach flipping as she heard the redhead’s breath hitch. “If I ever need a hero, Nicole, I know who to come to.”</p><p>She winked, her cheeks heating as she immediately berated herself. For the wink, and for the cheesy line. A <em> wink? </em> Who <em> winks </em>? She was just glad she had her hands full, or she might have shot finger guns.</p><p>Nicole chuckled, and the sound instantly reassured Waverly’s nerves. The air seemed to thicken for a moment as she met the redhead’s gaze again, neither seeming to want to end the exchange. Butterflies beat in Waverly’s stomach as Nicole opened her mouth to speak, until she was cut short by the sound of the server calling for the next customer, and they both started, blushing deeply as they stepped apart.</p><p>“I’d er... I’d best be going.” Waverly smiled shyly, lifting the contents in her hands by way of explanation as she made a step towards the door.</p><p>“Yeah... yeah me too.” Nicole nodded, seemingly slightly dazed, her eyes not leaving Waverly’s as she stepped in beside her.</p><p>“Weren’t you going to order anything?” Waverly grinned, raising an eyebrow at the officer in amusement.</p><p>“Uh... yeah?” Nicole paused for a moment, closing her eyes as if trying to re-orientate herself, her lips curling into an abashed smile as Waverly chuckled. “Yeah, I-I’ll get a coffee.”</p><p>“I’ll see you around, <em> Officer </em>.” Waverly deliberately lowered her voice, allowing a subtle hint of a husk to lace through the woman’s title, and she smirked as she watched the tips of Nicole’s ears redden in response.</p><p>Waverly glanced back as she reached the door, the butterflies beating faster at the sight of the officer watching her, still with a dazed look and a soft smile on her face. Waverly bit her lip, smiling shyly in return. She watched, her grin growing wider as Nicole shook her head, blushing yet again as she finally turned to place her order.</p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂        ꧁꧂        ꧁꧂        </p><p> </p><p>Waverly's head felt clearer as she bustled her way back into the homestead, her mind replaying her encounter with the stupidly gorgeous officer. She should have asked for her number. Or a full name, at least, so she could do some subtle social media stalking. Why hadn’t she <em> thought </em>? Nicole was an officer, and the Purgatory Police Department was small. Wynonna was likely to know her. Maybe she'd ask her sister for her name. Once the older Earp was drunk enough not to ask questions, of course.</p><p>Waverly frowned as she kicked the front door closed behind her, hearing nothing but silence through the house. She made her way into the kitchen, huffing in irritation as she found everything exactly as she’d left it; the burned pan still on the stove, complete with blackened contents. She called Wynonna’s name, frustration washing over her as she received no answer. Presumably her sister had crawled back to bed, and probably wouldn’t surface again until mid-afternoon. Waverly sighed, moving to put the breakfast things down on the counter. She jumped as a series of loud, irregular thumping noises sounded from the barn beside the house. She rolled her eyes as her sister’s voice followed, a string of choice expletives filling the air. She changed tact, keeping her grip on the breakfast and heading out towards the source of the noise. She quirked an eyebrow, pursing her lips in amusement as she found her sister balancing on a ladder, awkwardly hauling a large trunk down from the rafters.</p><p>“Could you maybe give me a hand, sis?” Wynonna grunted with effort as she spoke, shuffling the weight of the trunk onto her shoulders. “Or both me and this trunk are gonna go crashing straight through the floor.”</p><p>Waverly started, rushing to put the breakfast things down on the barn’s makeshift bed, and scurried over to her sister’s aid. A few minor injuries and several curse words later, they managed to wrestle the trunk down to the ground, and haul it over beside the bed.</p><p>“Thanks.” Wynonna huffed a heavy breath, her cheeks reddened with exertion. “Didn’t think that all the way through.”</p><p>“What, exactly, are you doing?” Waverly wiped her brow with the back of her hand, raising her eyebrows as she did so. “What’s this?”</p><p>“Well I was thinking about what you said, about there being no baby photos up.” Wynonna sat on the end of the makeshift bed, her blue eyes earnest as she fixed them on Waverly’s. “And I figured that things never really felt like a normal family for us back then, but maybe it’s our chance to try to be one now? Now that this place is ours, we can try to make it a proper home, like a proper family, just me and you?”</p><p>Waverly felt her heart swell against her ribcage, the sting of tears prickling once more behind her eyes. She searched her sister’s face as she tried to find the right response. She didn’t know what to say. Wynonna never said things like this, and she looked so exposed in that moment - her eyes earnest, dust and sweat smearing her cheeks and her forehead - that Waverly couldn’t help but smile.</p><p>“That sounds amazing, Wy.” She grinned, leaning her head against her sister’s shoulder as she sat down beside her. “But what’s with the trunk?”</p><p>“Right!” Wynonna clapped her hands together as she pulled back, studying the chest with dubious excitement. “Well, I figure this is where we’ll find some baby photos!”</p><p>Wynonna dropped to her knees and prised open the trunk, coughing as the dust billowed around her face. Waverly pushed herself onto the floor beside her sister, clutching her coffee cup in both hands as she peered into the chest. The contents were a jumbled mess; loose photos and papers and articles of varying ages and conditions. There were photos of all generations; some recognisable family members, and others that could be distant relatives, or complete strangers for all the photos were worth to Waverly and Wynonna. Waverly felt her chest pull with the sting of rejection as she found a number of photos of a young Willa and Wynonna, with still no sign of her own face. She sighed, resigning herself to the disappointment as she turned her attention to the muddle of articles and papers that lay amongst the photos.</p><p>“There are <em> so many </em> newspaper clippings of all these gory crimes in this area.” Waverly grimaced as her eyes scanned an article on a body found in a nearby river, the victim listed as a John Doe. “Dad was the Sheriff, he had the inside information on these cases. Why did he need all these?”</p><p>“I don’t think it was him that kept them, Babygirl.” Wynonna’s voice was sombre, her face pale as she flicked through various loose scraps of paper, barely legible scribbles visible across them.</p><p>“That’s Mama’s handwriting.” Waverly felt her stomach drop as she leaned in over Wynonna’s shoulder, her heart in her throat as she strained to read the words. “What do they say?”</p><p>“Most of them are nonsensical... these must be from the height of her paranoia.”</p><p>Wynonna cleared her throat, closing her eyes and pulling her knees closer to her chest as she pushed the scraps into Waverly’s hands.</p><p>“<em> ’They’re coming. They took him, and they’re coming </em> .’” Waverly heard the hoarse break in her own voice as she read the words on the page. Nausea settled in the pit of her stomach, and she felt Wynonna stiffen beside her as she flicked through the notes. “ <em> ’Trapped. All trapped </em>.’ Jesus.”</p><p>“Well this has taken a turn for the heavy. Suddenly this coffee isn’t nearly Irish enough.” Wynonna stood, shaking her hands out in a visible effort to distance herself from the memories that sat thick in both girls’ chests. “Put those in a pile for the bonfire, and forget you ever saw them. Today is a celebration! I’m going to get the whiskey.”</p><p>Waverly hummed in acknowledgement, and vaguely registered her sister’s footsteps retreat from the barn, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the contents of the trunk before her. She had always known that both of her parents had suffered long effects of mental ill health, but she had been so young when her mother had been admitted, and young enough when her father had died that she didn’t really have a clear memory of what it had been like to be around. Seeing the evidence before her now was devastating, grief and guilt clutching at her every sense. The sheer lack of any family photo albums, or sense of normality, or structure, was eye opening – and she had lived it! As Waverly continued to rifle through the contents, she could feel herself getting more and more frustrated, and confused, and the tears began to fall before she’d realised they were coming. She sniffed, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand as a few stray teardrops hit one of the many loose newspaper clippings strewn across the floor. Waverly picked the flimsy sheet up, dabbing the wet page with the end of her sleeve in an effort to blot the rapidly blurring ink. Her heart seemed to stop, yet her pulse seemed to thump in her ears as she scanned the yellowing clipping. It was torn from a newspaper, and her Mama’s scribbles and deep pen grooves wove their way across it, illegible in the messy, seemingly desperate scrawl. The words of the article were cut off by the frayed, torn edges, but Waverly could see enough to understand what they said.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Missing Person!</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em> Police search for local... </em>
</p><p>But it was the photo that made Waverly’s blood freeze through her veins, the trickle of ice down her spine bringing goosebumps to the surface of her skin. The image was in colour, and the gentle face and the blue eyes were unmistakable to Waverly, even on the thin, worn paper, and even beneath the various scribbles. Wynonna’s returning footsteps barely registered in her brain as she stared at the familiar face, her brain failing to provide any sense of reason to her now.</p><p>“Be a crying shame if they never found <em> that </em> guy, that face is <em> far </em> too pretty to be missing.” Wynonna slumped down beside her, prising the coffee cup from her hands to add a generous shot of whiskey to the rapidly cooling mix.</p><p>“It’s him, Wynonna.”</p><p>Waverly turned to face her sister, her eyes wide and her fingers trembling as she passed over the clipping, and took the whiskey, swigging directly from the bottle. She swallowed, relishing the burn in the back of her throat.</p><p>“That’s the man from my dreams.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Run</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoyed chapter 1?</p><p>I'm planning to post every Thursday (unless I get antsy and post earlier, which is just as likely =p )</p><p>As always, please let me know what you think, your comments are life.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Waverly winced as the shrill ring of the office phone pierced in her ears. Her elbows were resting on her heavy oak desk, and she buried her head in her hands as she allowed the phone to ring off. It was Monday morning, and she couldn’t ever remember a hangover like this one. She and Wynonna had gone through the trunk until it had gotten too depressing and the whiskey had burned too much of a hole in their focus to care anymore. Then Wynonna had dragged Waverly off to celebrate properly, and she had ended up having the best birthday that she could ever remember. One day of drinking had turned into a weekend, and as a result Waverly was suffering for it this morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Waverly!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly jumped at her boss’s voice calling out from the doorway of the office as he shook his umbrella out, and placed his hat and his coat on the wrought iron hooks. She snapped her head up, dropping her elbows from the desk and pulling her keyboard closer towards her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, Ted.” Waverly winced at the hoarse break in her strained, alcohol soaked voice, praying that she could pass it off as the early hour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was your weekend? Good birthday?” Ted’s low voice held the knowing, almost gravelly tone of a man wizened by age, and his eyes were kind and genuine as he approached her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was... wait, you knew it was my birthday?” Waverly raised her eyebrows, unable to stop the smile that pulled at her cheeks as she turned to face the elderly man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, I have it on my records!” Ted smiled widely, his eyes twinkling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly grinned back as her boss made his way towards his office, nestled to the back of the space in which Waverly worked. Ted had owned and run the local newspaper for nearly 48 years, and Waverly would hazard a guess that his retirement age had been and gone some time ago. She had been working for Ted for 18 months, as a researcher and a journalist for the Purgatory Publisher. The newspaper was small, staffing just Ted, Waverly, and one other woman who managed the admin alongside her journalism role.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly turned back to her screen, her mind drifting once more over her weekend and the events that lingered in her thoughts. She reached subconsciously into her pocket, her fingers finding the faded edges of the newspaper clipping featuring the face of the man from her dreams. She pulled the article out, allowing her eyes to study the scribbles over the clipping once again. She’d tried countless times this weekend to decipher the scrawled letters, trying desperately to pick out any clues as to who this man could be, but to no avail. She’d tried googling missing persons cases in Purgatory, but nothing had given her the image that sat before her, and she had no name and no details with which to make any other connections. Waverly sighed, pushing the article back into her pocket and grabbing her coffee mug. Today was going to need to be heavily caffeine fuelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morning routine was well rehearsed to her now, and so Waverly made a sweet tea for Ted without needing to ask if the older man wanted one. Balancing the mugs carefully in her hands, she knocked lightly on the door to Ted’s office, pushing it open as she heard the man call for her to enter. She smiled at her boss’s thanks as she set the mug down on his desk, and turned towards the door. As she took a step away, she halted, her mind racing as she pushed her hand into her pocket, feeling the roughened edges of the clipping once more. He had been here for years. Would he know?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ted...” Waverly turned, hesitating as her boss’s kind eyes met her own. Would he ask questions? Would he think she was crazy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it, Waverly?” Ted prompted, turning to face her fully in a gesture that told her she had his full attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you recognise this article?” She held the clipping out, the older man taking it between trembling fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly held her breath as she watched Ted’s eyes scan the clipping. She noticed his eyebrows twitch as he took in the mess of scrawls that covered the page, though he didn’t say anything. Ted’s lips pursed, his brow furrowing in thought for a moment, before he shook his head, holding the clipping back out towards Waverly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t say that I do, I’m sorry. The face looks vaguely familiar to me, but...” Ted shrugged, his expression apologetic, and Waverly let out a heavy exhale, her heart sinking. “There have been a lot of years. A lot of men, a lot of articles, a lot of missing people. Names start to fade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understandable.” Waverly nodded, offering her boss a small smile as she pushed the article back into her pocket. “Thanks anyway, Ted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waverly.” Ted’s voice called as she reached the door, and she turned her head back to look at him. “It’s likely one of ours. Try the library archives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course. Butterflies swam in Waverly’s stomach as she considered the possibility. The library held archives for as far back as the newspaper had been running. It could take some time, but maybe she could find the image in one of the files there. She thanked Ted, a renewed nervous energy in her step as she headed back to her desk. This evening. She would go this evening.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂        </span> </p><p>
  
</p><p><span>Waverly pulled her coat tighter around herself, bracing her umbrella against the icy rain as she hurried down Purgatory’s main street towards the large, column fronted building that was the town’s library. She huffed in irritation as a car sped past her, forcing her to jump back to avoid the spray of the dirt-black rainwater. She turned her head to follow the car, scowling as it drove out of her sight. As she turned her focus back to her path, her eyes passed over a small Honda parked by the roadside, its passenger window wound down and the rain soaking through the fabric seats. She glanced around, hoping to catch sight of the car’s potential owner, realising quickly that she had very little hope, and not enough patience to hang around in the rain to risk her chances. She scrabbled in her purse, searching for a plastic bag or something with which she could cover the window, finish her good deed, and be on her way. Coming up empty, Waverly threw her hand down by her side, her fist balling in frustration. She stared at the window for a moment as she considered her options, willing the stupid thing to just close by itself. The rain was starting to fall harder, almost blurring her vision, and Waverly was so cold that the fingers of her balled fist were tingling, and she pulled the sleeves of her coat down to protect them. Waverly halted, her heart stopping in her chest. The window of the car was... </span><em><span>closing</span></em><span>? By </span><em><span>itself</span></em><span>! She spun around, searching for signs of an owner with a key, the sharp taste of panic searing in her throat. This </span><em><span>could</span></em> <em><span>not</span></em><span> be happening, not again. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. It was a modern car, it probably had a sensor. She was just cold, hungover, and a little cranky. She just needed to get in out of the rain, get a warm drink, and find the damn archives.</span></p><p>
  <span>Waverly pulled her coat tighter once more, gripping her purse under her arm, and kept her head down as she continued towards the library.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need a lift somewhere, Ma’am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly jumped, the firm but polite voice startling her. She tilted her umbrella back, peering up at the police car that had slowed right alongside her, familiar tousled red hair shining out at her through the rolled window. The officer’s brows were furrowed, and she almost looked stern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nicole! Hi.” Waverly grinned, her chest warming as the officer’s lips broke into a dimpled smile, recognition flashing in her deep eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh hey, Waverly.” Nicole’s voice softened and her grin grew wider, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “Do you wanna jump in? This weather is lethal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m actually just headed to the library.” Waverly hugged her umbrella as she gestured with one hand to the building just up ahead. She heard the tone of regret in her own voice, a strange disappointment washing over her at having to turn down an opportunity to ride with the gorgeous redhead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I won’t keep you out in the rain. But here, Wave...” Nicole turned in the car, reaching behind her. She fumbled for a moment, before holding out a deep blue flask, with the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department logo emblazoned on the sides. “At least let me warm you up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blood rushed to Waverly’s cheeks as Nicole winked, the nickname, the kindness of the gesture, and the heat of the flirtatious comment already going some ways to thaw the brunette’s icy skin from the inside out. She bit her lip, dropping her gaze for a moment as she tried to compose herself. When she met Nicole’s eyes again, the redhead’s lips were quirked in a cocky smirk, and her eyebrows were raised as she waited for Waverly to take the flask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just coffee. Black.” Nicole shrugged, blushing a little as Waverly stepped forward to take the flask, their fingers brushing in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My hero yet again, Officer.” Waverly grinned. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anytime. You can give that back to me when we next meet.” Nicole flashed her dimples as she leaned back into the car, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “See you around, Ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly watched as the cruiser pulled away, unable to hide the beaming smile from her face. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> needed to get that woman’s phone number. She practically skipped the last few steps, clutching the flask tightly to her chest as she bounded up the stairs to the library’s grand entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂        </span></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly shook her umbrella off at the doorway of the library, propping it in the stand just inside the entrance. The building was grander than one might expect for a town as small as Purgatory, though it wasn’t especially large. The high ceiling was arched and the evenly spaced, symmetrical rows of books were stacked higher than Waverly could reach. The room was dotted with small, set-back alcoves, hiding deep armchairs and long built-in benches. Waverly followed the signs to the archives, finding them in a smaller room set right to the back of the building, through a low, arched doorway to the side. The walls inside the small room were filled floor to ceiling with files, and four large archiving machines sat in the centre. The large screens sat on top of a scanner, through which the microfilm of the many archives were passed. Despite having worked for the paper for the past eighteen months, Waverly had never needed to use the archives, and so she had no real clue where to even start. She was pretty certain she could figure out the machine, having seen an older version in Ted’s office, but the archive files themselves baffled her. She ran her finger along the boxes lining the shelves, the thin layers of dust showing their lack of use. If she was completely honest, she wasn’t even entirely sure what to look for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need some help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly jumped at the sound of a voice, considerably closer to her ear than she had expected. She stepped back instinctively, almost unsettled by how quietly the man must have moved in order to get so close to her without her noticing. She blushed as she realised she was staring, and hadn’t answered his question, though he seemed to be waiting patiently enough. His eyes were soft and inquisitive as he held her gaze, and there was something so warm about his friendly face and slightly awkward smile, and so endearing about his zip up hoodie and his Game of Thrones T-shirt, that she instantly felt drawn to him. She smiled shyly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it that obvious that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t know what I’m doing?” She laughed, screwing her face up in mock embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no, you just look...” He started, fumbling awkwardly for his words for a moment before Waverly grinned and his shoulders dropped, his lips curling into a smirk. “Yeah. Yeah it kinda is. Is there a certain period you’re looking for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not specifically. I’m looking for missing persons articles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man’s eyes widened, and he pursed his lips, his head tilting subtly to the side, and Waverly couldn’t help but feel as though he were analysing her in some way. She swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable, and as though she needed to justify her reasons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just... it’s for a research project.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man nodded, holding his hands up in front of him almost in reassurance, and Waverly wondered if he’d been able to read her discomfort. She usually hid it so well from people. There was something about this man that made her feel exposed, yet somehow she already felt like she could trust him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well. Why don’t you take a seat at one of the machines, I’ll grab some relevant files and I’ll come and show you how to work them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man smiled as he gestured towards the screens and Waverly thanked him, grateful for the help. She took a seat, studying the machine before her with curious interest. She jumped, a hushed curse falling from her lips as not two minutes later, the man appeared silently beside her, his arms full with three boxes of files. She rolled her eyes, smirking in amusement as he sheepishly apologised for startling her, and placed the boxes down on the desk beside her machine. He showed her how to attach the files, and told her to call if she needed any more assistance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly couldn’t hazard a guess at how long she searched; her fingertips dirty and numb from the hours of rifling through the boxes of files, and stretching the tape across the machine. She’d found countless articles depicting all kinds of gory, mysterious, harrowing, and creepy missing persons cases, but none that bore any resemblance to the folded piece of newspaper nestled in the pocket of her jeans. She sighed, flinging the last of the files from her current search back into the box, wincing as she heard the plastic cover thud against the pile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, woah, woah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> be careful with the archives.” Waverly jumped, huffing in frustration as the man she’d spoken to appeared directly beside her, hurriedly gathering the files from the desk around her. “They’ll kill me if I let them get damaged and I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> get paid enough for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry...” She sighed, leaning back in her chair and running her hands through her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not finding what you need?” The man perched on the desk beside her, his voice genuine. “Can I help some more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay.” Waverly waved her hand dismissively. She couldn’t ask for specific help without raising questions, and she wasn’t sure what this man would make of the scribbles that adorned the clipping she needed to match. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hesitated as the man stood, taking a few steps backwards before turning to leave. There was something about this man that drew her in, and somehow she felt she knew that he genuinely wanted to assist. She almost felt as though she knew he would have the answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey wait, erm...” She trailed off, cursing herself for having not asked for the man’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeremy. Chetri. It’s... it’s Jeremy.” The man smiled shyly, stepping back towards her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waverly Earp.” She returned the smile, and pulled the clipping slowly from her pocket, hesitating just a moment longer before she held it out, waiting for Jeremy to take it. “And, er... actually maybe you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> help me. Do you recognise this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeremy’s brows furrowed instantly, his lips forming a tight line as he shook his head, his discomfort so apparent that Waverly could almost feel it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, never seen it.” Jeremy’s voice was slightly too high; slightly too strained, and he folded his arms as he stepped nonchalantly towards the shelves as he spoke. “Could be anyone, from anywhere, from any time. But erm...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly raised an eyebrow, watching in confusion as Jeremy began to move boxes around on the shelf before him as he spoke, pushing the ones in the front row out of the way to get to a row hidden behind, their layers of dust thick enough for a cloud to billow out around his face as he pulled them forwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not all of the archives are microfilmed, so...” Jeremy’s voice strained a little with exertion as he reached into the shelf, pulling a box out with him. “I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know,</span>
  </em>
  <span> at all, but maybe we should try looking in this box?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly blinked, unsure where to even start to process Jeremy’s behaviour. None of the boxes seemed to be labelled, and he didn’t appear to have searched for a specific one; merely seeming to have felt around in the dark until he produced. She looked down at it sceptically, and blew the dust from the cover before she opened it, pulling out a file. Like Jeremy had said, the files in this box weren’t microfilms; they instead were laminated newspaper pages, filed by date. Waverly put her clipping down on the table, as if somehow its presence would help her find what she was looking for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just... be over here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly glanced up, furrowing her brows, but fighting a smirk as Jeremy quirked an eyebrow at the file she was looking through. This man was very eccentric, and somehow it made her like him even more. Waverly shook her head, turning her attention back to the file. She frowned as she noticed her clipping, half caught between two pages of the binder. She ran her finger between the pages it separated, flipping them into her vision. She froze, the nauseating feeling of nerves and anticipation clenching in her stomach as she trailed her fingers lightly over the archive page before her. His face looked the same, though the colours were brighter; the page less yellow, and the absence of the scribbled words and the grooves of the pen lines making the image seem more vivid. More like the man in her dreams. Somewhere in her mind, Waverly was aware that she had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>more questions for Jeremy Chetri, but for now all her mind could see was the face before her, and the words that sat beside it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The article was so brief. So empty, so sparse. So impersonal. The details were so basic, and Waverly felt sick to her stomach as she scanned the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Police search for local missing man</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Purgatory Police Department have asked for the public’s assistance to locate a missing local man, Mr J.Levine. Mr Levine was last seen in the Purgatory area on the 11</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>th</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> September. He is 5-foot-eight, has short, sandy hair and blue eyes. Police did not have a description of the clothing he was last wearing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Police ask anyone with information about his whereabouts to call 780-876-6759.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>Tears burned behind Waverly’s eyes, and she blinked them back, swallowing the growl of anger that threatened to burst from her throat. The article was dated the 13</span><span>th</span><span> September 1999, so she had a timeframe, but there was no age, no full name, and no names of any family members who may still be in the area. </span><em><span>Why</span></em><span> were so few details given? Surely the man had a family? Or a job, or friends, or a partner? Else who had reported him missing?</span> <span>Waverly closed her eyes, picturing the man as she saw him in her dreams. He was older there than he was in this photo, she was </span><em><span>sure</span></em><span> of it, but with no age in the article, she couldn’t be sure if the image being used was an up to date one.</span></p><p>
  <span>Waverly slipped her phone from her pocket, shielding it from Jeremy’s sight with her body as she took a photo of the article. She flipped back to the beginning of the binder. If these were in date order, and all from the same paper, then perhaps there would be more? Maybe the articles in the days leading up to his disappearance might hold something? Or the days after? Perhaps the search had uncovered more leads, or the man had been found, or... or perhaps a body had been recovered. She swallowed thickly, beginning to turn the pages slowly, a little afraid of what she might find. She gasped audibly and jumped to her feet, nervous excitement rushing through her as her eyes landed on the page before her now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The entry was tiny; a small rectangular corner on a cluttered page, and she would have missed it had she not been searching so hard. A eulogy, of another Levine. A Mr R.Levine. The article seemed to be written by the man’s son or daughter, though once again, there was no name, no age, and no familial details. The date of his death was listed as September 5</span>
  <span>th</span>
  <span>, 1999 - just days before the date of J.Levine’s disappearance. Waverly pulled her phone out once more, snapping a photo of the eulogy. She pulled the search app up on her phone, typing in the name Levine, first with the initial ‘J’, and then with the initial ‘R’. She searched R.Levine with his date of death, and she searched J.Levine with his date of disappearance. She searched both names with Purgatory coordinates, and she searched the residency listings in the local area for anyone with the name Levine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> brought back any results. She felt sick, and her head was starting to swim. Why was there so much mystery surrounding these men? Who were they, and why did she seem to have some deep subconscious connection to one of them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> was she dreaming about this man, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> does this mean? If the man was missing, then the fact that she dreamed of him running from danger seemed more significant than ever. Clearly she had been wrong. Clearly this was not a past life thing, and she couldn’t help but feel lost. She had no idea where to go next, or what to do with this information.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Waverly are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeremy’s soft voice grounded her for a moment, and Waverly spun to face him, his eyes widening as he took in the panicked expression on her face. She stepped closer to him, no longer caring how crazy she sounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do… do you have any books on prophetic dreams?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂       </span></p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The evening had grown dark by the time Waverly made the walk back to her car, and the autumn mist did nothing to aid her vision as she made the drive back to the homestead. She was preoccupied; her mind racing with the contents of the articles she'd found, and on the books on dreams that she had stashed in the passenger's footwell beside her. She yelped, gripping the steering wheel tightly, her heart hammering in her throat as she hit a dent in the road, the truck veering as her tyre burst. She thanked her own sensibility for her reasonably low speed as she managed to pull the jeep over safely, her pulse racing and her skin burning with shock and fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took a moment to compose herself, breathing deeply as she switched off the engine and flicked the clip on her seat belt. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>what she needed, in the dark and the cold and the misty residue of the earlier rain. She sighed, opening the door and dragging herself from her car, flicking the torch on her phone. She rounded the car, spotting the burst tire on the driver's front wheel. She knelt before it, growling in frustration as the glow of the torch illuminated the large tear that ran through the center of the rubber. Irreparable. She glanced at the clock in the corner of her phone screen. Just after nine, and this was Purgatory. No garage would be able to help her at this time, and she knew she'd be better placed to find another way home and come back for the jeep tomorrow. She opened her contacts, dragging up Wynonna’s details. She crossed her fingers, praying her sister would be awake and sober. The line beeped; the all too familiar tone that told her the signal wasn't strong enough to connect the call. She cursed loudly, throwing her phone into the jeep and running her hands through her hair. Waverly groaned, her agitation quickly building. She would have to walk miles to get any signal, and it was dark and freezing cold. She would have to replace the tire herself, and that wasn’t something she was overly keen on doing in the dark. She kicked the shredded rubber, clenching her fists tightly, wishing the damage could just undo itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time there was absolutely no mistaking the tingles that shot through her balled fist, or the blatant way the tire sealed and inflated right before her eyes. Waverly halted, her trembling muscles unable to move as she stared at the tire in shock, a scream frozen in her chest. There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no way.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She let out a shaky exhale, her breath coming far too fast and far too short for her to control, her body overheating in her panic. She shook her hands out, beginning to pace beside the car as she tried to untangle her thoughts. There was just no way. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. Way. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She closed her eyes, running the back of her knuckles over her eyelids as she crouched down beside the wheel. She was overtired, and imagining things. She'd open her eyes, the tear would still be there, she'd change the tire and she'd go home to bed. Easy. She opened her eyes slowly, letting out a choked sob as her eyes fell on the mended, inflated tire. She stood, leaning against the jeep for support as her mind swam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man in her dreams was real. So... were the dreams real? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Power.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had said power. Did she have power? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Power?</span>
  </em>
  <span> The coffee shop. The car window. The fist, the tingling fingers. Was this literal, fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>magical</span>
  </em>
  <span> power? That was insane. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>insane</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that could not be accurate. But… well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> it? Waverly pressed the heels of her palm to her eyes, her thumbs massaging her temples as she let her body slide down the side of the jeep, sitting down in the dirt beside it. She needed to calm down. She couldn’t think properly, and clearly rational thought was missing somewhere here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snapped her head up, fumbling with the handle of her jeep to pull herself to her feet as the distant glare of headlights and the crunch of tires over the gritted road approached in the near distance. She relaxed a little, allowing herself to stand slowly as she recognised the colours and the emblem of the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department on the approaching cruiser. She positioned her keys between her fingers just in case, as the cruiser pulled up behind her and the driver's door swung open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, do you need some…" The voice hesitated, and the officer swung a torch in Waverly’s direction as she walked towards her. "Wait, Waverly is that you? Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nicole!” Waverly heard the relief in her own voice, surprised by how glad she was to see the redhead despite how little she really knew her. She exhaled, feeling her shoulders drop and her panic start to ease slightly. “Yeah, I’m just… it’s been a crazy night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to see it.” Nicole stepped closer, and Waverly could see her playful grin in the low light of combined vehicle headlamps and torches. “Do you often make a habit of hanging around in the middle of nowhere in the dark?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly chuckled, feeling the tension leave her muscles in Nicole’s presence. The woman really did make a fantastic cop; her air of assurance and stability flowing so naturally into those around her. Waverly grinned, allowing herself to drift a little closer to the officer as she teased back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>just hang around waiting for moments when you can play my hero?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty much</span>
  </em>
  <span> sums up patrol, yeah.” Nicole laughed, nodding her head. “What do you need saving from this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I had a flat tire.” Waverly winced, her panic edging at her chest again as she was reminded of her situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had?” Nicole pursed her lips, nodding in approval. “Impressive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I-I didn’t do anything!” Waverly stammered, her head starting to swim again with bewildered confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t change it?” Nicole furrowed her brows, moving to examine Waverly’s vehicle, presumably searching for the burst tire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Y-yeah.” Waverly cringed, cursing herself for her flustered state. She felt enough like a mad woman as it was, without letting her rapidly growing crush think she'd lost her mind as well. She forced a laugh, waving her hands dismissively as she spoke. “I mean yeah, of course.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole stood back from the wheel she was examining, her brows still drawn into a frown. She opened her mouth as if to question further, but hesitated just long enough for Waverly to interrupt her thought process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here anyway, what is there to patrol in the back end of nowhere? Besides would-be damsels in distress?” Waverly dropped her voice a little, hoping the flirtatious tone would distract Nicole enough to put them back on a safer path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re ten minutes out of town, back end of nowhere is a little extreme.” Nicole laughed, stepping closer to Waverly, her face now fully visible in the dim light. “And I just had a feeling I should take this route tonight. Call it a cop’s intuition?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly grinned, biting her lip as she took a step closer to Nicole; one step too far to be considered professional, but not far enough to be inappropriate. She fixed her eyes on the Officer’s mocha gaze, almost whispering her words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d call it my good fortune.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole's breath caught audibly in her chest, and the blush that tinted her cheeks was just visible enough to Waverly to set the butterflies swarming in her stomach. Nicole opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the crackle of the radio clipped to her shoulder, reminding them both of where they were and why they were there.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is dispatch, we have reports of a disturbance outside Shorty’s Bar, can we get a 10-20 on Haught?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Haught?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Waverly mouthed soundlessly, her eyes still locked with Nicole's. She raised her eyebrows with a bemused smirk as Nicole grinned, her eyes twinkling playfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Officer Haught.” Nicole pressed the button on her radio as she spoke, throwing a cheeky wink at Waverly as she confirmed her name. “10-4, I’m on my way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Officer Haught?” Waverly repeated with a chuckle, leaning back against the jeep and smirking as she looked up at Nicole. “It definitely suits you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole grinned, stepping closer again to Waverly, the gap between them closing a little further than it had before. Waverly could feel the officer’s presence raising goosebumps over her skin, and she shivered, her stomach doing somersaults with the proximity and the subtle wafts of the redhead’s perfume. She smelled like vanilla and sandalwood, and Waverly’s head swam with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go.” Nicole’s voice was almost a whisper, betraying her reluctance to leave. She took a step back, the tension between them broken for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly smirked, pushing herself off of the jeep and towards Nicole, the insistent movement keeping the gap between them small, as though they were physically drawn to each other; their bodies like magnets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but...” She grinned, holding her hand out, her palm facing upwards. “Give me your phone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole raised an eyebrow, her eyes widening at Waverly’s demand, but her lips curled into a smirk and she pulled her phone from her back pocket, unlocking it and placing it in Waverly’s upturned hand. Waverly bit her lip, trying to hold back her beaming grin as she keyed in and saved her number, before locking the phone and passing it back to Nicole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me.” Waverly grinned, letting her eyes drift to Nicole’s lips, and then sweeping momentarily over the length of her body before returning to her dark gaze. “As hot as that uniform is, maybe I can see you out of it sometime?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole’s eyebrows flew upwards, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushing deep red. Waverly slammed her eyes shut, her neck and her chest burning as she realised what she'd said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I just meant like, a coffee, or-or dinner or something... when...” Waverly stammered, embarrassment flooding her body as she tried to regain her control. She forced herself to open her eyes, her blush spreading to her ears as Nicole smirked, her cocky expression doing nothing to help Waverly's flustered state. “When you’re not in uniform - </span>
  <em>
    <span>working.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not-not working.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Officer Haught, what’s your ETA?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The radio crackled again, and Waverly was grateful for the interruption. She clenched her jaw, willing her mouth to stop spilling words she didn't want to be saying. She huffed out an abashed laugh as Nicole grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d love to.” Nicole stepped back, her fingers poised on the radio in preparation for her response. She smiled widely, her dimples on full display. “I’ll call you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Officer Haught.” Waverly grinned shyly, Nicole’s words having eased her embarrassment slightly but not enough for her cocky confidence to return just yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole chuckled as she reached her car door, her eyes lingering just a little longer than necessary on Waverly’s before she finally moved to open it. She grinned, winking once again as she spoke her parting words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight Ma’am.”</span>
</p><p><span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂       </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The world around him doesn’t seem quite so grey tonight, and she can pick out the shadows of the trees that loom in the still foggy air, bouncing from the glare of ice and snow below him. He runs, as he always does, and the lines of exhaustion are more prominent than they had been even nights ago. She pushes her own muscles, willing them to move; to help him. She struggles against the binds of her sleep, willing her own lips to form the questions she needs the answers to. Nothing changes. Still she sees only him, and hears only his own words. Tonight though she knows, somehow, that she will remember everything he tells her when she wakes. The words sound clearer, and his voice closer; no longer a whisper straining to reach her across the darkened skies.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s going to be okay. We’ll win, I promise.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We won’t run forever.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Different</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading so far! Please do leave your comments, good or bad! 😊</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly buried her head further beneath her pillow, fumbling blindly for the snooze button as the first of her four daily alarms rang out. She groaned, her mind already racing before she’d even opened her eyes. The new memories from her night’s dream gave her no new answers, and a wealth of new questions. She needed to understand why </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the one who saw this man. What was the extent of this power she seemed to hold, and could she use it to find her answers? Power. In the cold light of day it seemed even more absurd. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was absurd, but right now it was the only explanation she had, and she was running out of any options but to entertain and explore it. What had happened each time she’d used her so-called power? The coffee shop, the car window, the burst tyre. What had been the common factors? She’d been feeling stress or frustration each time; pressure to do something about a situation that was out of her control. Could that be relevant? Or was it the fist? The tight clench of her fist that she could no longer deny tingled each time this had happened? She knew she could just try. Try now, and see what she could do, but something stopped her; a fear of the unknown and the things she didn’t understand. She threw her duvet back, jumping from her bed earlier than she usually would. She had a feeling she knew exactly who she needed to ask, and she would have to get a move on if she was going to get her answers before she needed to be at work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly balanced two reusable coffee cups in one hand as she pulled on the heavy doors to the library’s main entrance, steadying them with the other as the glass swung closed behind her. She hurried through the building, barely bothering to take in her surroundings as she focused on the tiny arch at the end of the row that would lead her to the archives. She entered the small room, closing the door behind her, and let out a steady exhale, allowing her steps to slow. She stepped further into the room, her eyes scanning the gaps between the shelves for the face she’d come to see. She breathed a sigh of disappointment when she saw no sign of him, and turned back towards the door, her heart jumping through her throat as she came face to face with a beaming Jeremy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Waverly placed a hand over her heart, feeling it hammer against her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s er... Jeremy, actually.” He grinned impishly as Waverly rolled her eyes. “And good morning to you too!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thought I’d bring you a coffee, I wanted to say thank you for helping me out last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you! I was just doing my job.” Jeremy shrugged, but took the coffee with a grateful smile. “Do you wanna sit down?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly nodded, following Jeremy to the corner of the room, in which two mismatched, high backed chairs sat either side of a small, rounded wooden table. She took a deep breath, preparing herself as Jeremy sipped from his coffee cup, watching her patiently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jeremy, do you...” She hesitated, swallowing thickly. Was she really about to ask him this? She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, before she fixed her gaze on his as she spoke. “Do you believe in magic?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Magic?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jeremy jumped, wincing as the hot contents of his cup spilled over the edge and onto his hands. He hurriedly wiped them off on his khakis, then winced as they left a visible stain. He flushed, placing the cup on the coffee table. “Ha. No. Erm. I... why do you ask?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He titled his head and crossed his arms, leaning back on the legs of his chair in an effort to seem casual. Waverly raised an eyebrow, biting back her amusement as he lost his balance, his arms flailing as he fought to catch himself. She knew she’d been right. Jeremy knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what she was talking about, and he clearly was the right person to be asking. She shook her head, leaning forwards as she dropped her voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Things have been happening the past couple of days that I can’t explain. But I feel like maybe you can.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pfft, me?” Jeremy scoffed, pointing his finger at his own chest. “What gave you that impression, I don’t...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jeremy!” Waverly snapped, cutting him off. “Cut the crap. I burst a man’s cup from across the room, I wound a car window up with my mind, and I repaired and inflated a shredded tire without touching it once.” Waverly shifted to the edge of her seat, pointing a finger at Jeremy as he visibly squirmed in his chair. “And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> know all about it, with your weird behaviour and finding the file blindly, and your </span>
  <em>
    <span>creepily</span>
  </em>
  <span> quiet way of sneaking about.” She leaned closer still, and he tilted his chair back once more, flailing and gripping the shelves to stabilise himself. “I think I have power, and I think you can help me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...” Jeremy’s knuckles paled as he gripped the shelves, and his voice trembled as he spoke. “Okay. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just... sit back down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly sat back, exhaling hard as she tried to calm her racing pulse. She watched, her eyes wide and her breath held in her throat as Jeremy reached forward gingerly, gesturing for Waverly to hand him her almost empty cup. She furrowed her brows as she passed it to him, leaning forwards again instinctively as he placed it on the table before her, removing the rubber lid and dropping it beside the cup. Waverly’s gaze flicked from Jeremy’s face, to the cup, and back again. She watched with bated breath as he quirked an eyebrow, her jaw dropping as the cup slowly started to refill, swirls of steam lifting from the dark liquid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a witch.” He shrugged, watching Waverly’s face carefully for her reaction. “And I’m guessing, so are you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly stared at the cup for a moment, her mind blank for the first time in days. She puffed a breath through her cheeks, then nodded, her lips pursing in approval as she reached to take the fresh coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you freaked out a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> less than I expected.” Jeremy raised his eyebrows, his lips curling into a surprised smirk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you, it’s been a </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>weird few days.” Waverly shrugged, lifting the coffee cup to her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A hushed quiet fell over them for a moment as Waverly forced her brain to process the new information. A witch. She felt strangely relaxed, which in itself should have frightened her, but she honestly just felt relieved to have an answer to at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> of her many questions. She smirked as she watched Jeremy’s own cup refill, and the librarian lean back, cradling it in his hands as he waited for her to speak. She sat forward, scrabbling in her bag for her notepad. She had questions - of course she did - but she didn’t even know where to start. She cast her mind over all the times in her life when she’d heard the word ‘witch’, and what it meant to her then. In the storybooks, and the films, and the TV shows. She unclipped the pen from the spiral of her notebook, flicking the cap and holding it over the page, poised and ready to go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So... do I need a wand? Or spellbooks?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good one." Jeremy laughed, pointing a finger gun. His face fell slightly as Waverly stared blankly at him. “Oh you're serious?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly couldn’t help the small scowl that crossed her face and she huffed a breath of irritation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Psh, no." Jeremy scoffed, waving his hands dismissively. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Those</span>
  </em>
  <span> are the creations of non-magical people desperate for a glimpse of the world we live in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you have a name for non-magical people? You know, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘muggles</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ or ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>mundanes’</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Waverly blinked as Jeremy stared at her blankly. “H-Harry Potter? Shadowhunter? Nevermind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m aware of the references Earp.” Jeremy gestured pointedly to the Star Wars emblem across his T-Shirt. “But no, Waverly. It’s 2020, you can’t go around calling people names because they’re different.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“R-right. Of course.” Waverly blushed, dropping her gaze to her notepad. “So if there are no spells to learn, how am I supposed to know what I can do, or learn how to do it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s power, Waverly. It surges always under your skin, it’s yours from the moment you turn twenty-one. Of course there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>rules</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>limitations</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like anything! But to use it, you just have to want to.” Jeremy’s face softened as he explained, and Waverly couldn’t help but feel that he hadn’t expected her to know so little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do I learn the rules and limitations?” She asked shyly, jotting things down in her notebook, her heart sinking as she realised that so far all she’d written were more questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, I’ll link you to a website. Most important thing is you can’t work magic on people’s thoughts or feelings.” Jeremy paused, allowing Waverly to scribble as he spoke. “We can only control physical concepts, though we </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> control those in relation to how people perceive them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Waverly drew her brows together, her pen poised halfway through a sentence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t make someone feel love, or sadness, or make them believe a certain thing or think a certain way. But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> do this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeremy quirked an eyebrow, and Waverly gasped as she felt a pressure on her shoulder; the warmth that of a hand resting. She shuddered, feeling traces of fear for the first time as she thought about the dark ways that the wrong people could use that power. She shook her head, pushing that train of thought back for another time. She needed to focus on the basics for now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do we get the powers at twenty-one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’ve never been able to figure that out.” Jeremy shrugged. “They assume it’s a ‘coming of age’ thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s they?” Waverly furrowed her brows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Witches Council.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Witches Coun… not the Ministry of Magic?” Waverly grinned, her lips falling instantly as Jeremy glared at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you get an owl and a fucking letter, Earp?” Jeremy rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “No, because this is real life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right… so will I not? Get a letter?” Waverly blushed. She felt sheepish under Jeremy’s scrutiny, but until yesterday she’d thought all of this was impossible, and so she didn’t really have any idea what was realistic and what wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not unless they need you.” Jeremy’s voice was quieter now; more sombre, and something in his eyes sent a chill down Waverly’s spine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Need me for what?” Waverly heard the hushed break of fear in her voice, her stomach turning in anticipation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re... you’re gonna need another coffee.” Jeremy quirked his eyebrow, and Waverly flinched as the cup in her hand began to fill with steaming liquid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly sat back, pulling her notepad close to her as she waited for Jeremy to expand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Way back in the day, witches used to live separately from non-magical people. We were seen as kind of like gods; all powerful, and ruling over the non-magical world. Think like Olympus - that shit was </span>
  <em>
    <span>such</span>
  </em>
  <span> a rip off.” Jeremy mumbled, shaking his head. “Course there were less of us then – population growth and all that. Then your standard teenage shit happened, and some witch fell in love with a non-magical woman, and he ran off to live in her world with her. Initially the head of the council was mad, he was worried the guy would create these hybrid ‘half-witch’ people, and he was... well, an asshole. Hated the idea of ‘mixing blood’, and told him it was stay, or they would take his powers away, so then there was this whole battle and a shit tonne of death...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> loved her, wouldn’t he have just let them do that?” Waverly interjected, her hand cramping as she scribbled furiously in her notepad. “And how does one </span>
  <em>
    <span>take </span>
  </em>
  <span>someone’s power?” Waverly shuddered. The idea that her access to her power could be controlled by someone else made her spine run cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With some pretty gruesome magic. Taking powers away isn’t as romantic as it sounds. If a witch has their power taken, they lose a huge part of their soul. Some go mad, some forget who they are, and the luckiest just live in pain. It’s kinda </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> really an option.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly balked, her stomach clenching slightly as she processed everything she’d heard. The idea that someone had enough power to control a person like that made her feel sick, and her fingers trembled subtly as she passed her pen over the page.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So eventually he won.” Jeremy continued. “He overthrew the guy leading, assigned someone else to power and went off to have his kids with his non-magic woman. They learned that it doesn’t work like that. It seems as though you either have the power or you don’t. So then they figured that if they let people interbreed, they could possibly create more witches. The new guy in charge saw that as a good thing – less poverty, less sickness, less sadness..., but he was still battling a council full of people who wanted to keep control, so eventually they settled the rule. So long as one representative from every witching family lives in Domhan Draiocht...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Domhan Draiocht? As in Irish for ‘magic world’?” Waverly raised an eyebrow, her face scrunched in disapproval. “Well that’s disappointingly unoriginal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is if you speak Irish. Otherwise it just sounds magical and cool.” Jeremy shrugged. “Anyway, so long as one representative from every witching family stays in Domhan Draiocht, and one from every original family sits on the council, then the rest may come and go as they choose. If they refuse, every member of the family will have their powers taken.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly reeled, fear and anger starting to bubble in her stomach. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> this place? Who did they think they were?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> ridiculous. I mean, how long ago was this? Like you said, it’s 2020, are we not done with this ‘mixed blood’ bullshit?” She could hear the harsh bite in her words, and she knew she was projecting her anger unfairly onto Jeremy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Domhan Draiocht is a pretty backwards place, what can I say?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeremy winced as he spoke, and the regret in his eyes told Waverly he thought the same way that she did. She felt guilty for pushing her anger onto him, and she took a deep breath, sipping from her coffee in an effort to keep her composure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who rules there now?” She asked quietly. She was starting to feel a little light headed; the information a lot to take in one sitting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bulshar Clootie. No-one ever sees him. His second is Bobo Del Ray.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So the land is called ‘magic world’, but the people have names like Bulshar and Bobo?” Waverly scoffed, shaking her head as she jotted the names down in her notepad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your takeaways are really not what they should be...” Jeremy mused, his lips curling in amusement as Waverly’s cheeks tinted red. “Of course, they don’t rule over non-magical people anymore. Not since the hunters. They just govern the witches.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunters?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Waverly shrieked, her notepad dropping to the floor in her shock. This just seemed never ending, and she was beginning to regret ever asking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Salem witch trials and all that?” Jeremy quirked his eyebrow, his powers moving the notepad back to Waverly’s lap. “History rewritten of course, but basically there’s a line of people who are </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> non-magical, but they seem to have the power to detect a witch, and when power is used. There were enough of them and those they informed, to start a revolution, and they killed as many witches as they could find. We might have power, but the non-magical people had numbers that couldn’t be beaten. There were a lot of stakes and a lot of hangings – Salem wasn’t exactly the only place. Eventually witches were pushed into hiding. Which is why non-magical people don’t know about us anymore."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are there still hunters?" Waverly asked nervously, not entirely sure she really wanted to know the answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course." Jeremy shuddered. "Don't you write for the newspapers? You've seen the murders, heard of the massacres."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Those were all witches? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hunted?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Waverly paled, her stomach twisting in sickened anguish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The names I recognised were all witches. The murders are so specific, so brutal, that I don't see how it could be anything but hunters. They all have this archaic witching symbol carved onto the bodies. An old symbol that once meant high power. Like they're </span>
  <em>
    <span>branding</span>
  </em>
  <span> them as witches. This is why we tell no-one, Waverly."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeremy sat back in his chair to drink his coffee, seemingly satisfied that he had said all he needed to. Waverly relished the silence for a moment, running her hand through her hair as she scanned the notes on the page before her. None of this felt possible. This was insane. She’d gone insane. Or she would wake any minute in a hospital somewhere with a trauma to the head. She closed her eyes, trying to make sense of the information she’d been told, and to untangle it from the questions that still lay unanswered in her mind. When she spoke again, it was as much to herself as it was to Jeremy, and she wasn’t expecting an answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I.. I don’t understand. All of this. This means one of my parents is a witch? How do I know which one? Or are they both, in which case is Wynonna, too? And my Dad is dead, he’s been dead for 15 years. My Mom is in a high-security hospital. If they’re both here, then how do I know who is in Domhan Draiocht? This is all too much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeremy didn’t speak, and she knew he understood that she didn’t need him to. He didn’t know the answers to those questions; how could he? Waverly felt her heart sink, anxiety and despair swirling in her stomach as she considered her next question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jeremy, am </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>gonna have to go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I wouldn’t know for sure.” Jeremy shook his head, his eyes carrying a genuine apology. “But I will.” His voice grew soft, his pain etched clearly across his face as he continued. “My mother died when I was young, and my father is my only known living ancestor. I’m an only child. When he passes, it will be me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly smiled sympathetically, her heart aching for the man she was starting to see as a new friend. She swallowed thickly, the idea of ever having to leave Wynonna behind sitting far too heavy on her chest. Or if it was her. Wynonna was older; if she was a witch too, then she would be the heir. The idea of her sister leaving her again was too much for Waverly to take, and she blinked as the burn of tears started to prickle behind her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was your Mom’s name before she married?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeremy’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she watched as he typed furiously in his phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gibson. Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeremy frowned as he continued to type, then paused, his eyes flickering as he read.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t recognise Earp as a witching family name.” Jeremy clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he studied his screen. “But Gibson is so common I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know all the names?” Waverly queried, her eyes widening in disbelief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them,” Jeremy countered, “but there aren’t exactly millions of bloodlines. There were only thirteen original family bloodlines.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thirteen.” Waverly nodded, half rolling her eyes. “Again, how original.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, Earp, these things came from somewhere! The tropes rip us off, not the other way round, okay?” Jeremy pushed his phone back into his pocket, mild irritation flashing through his eyes briefly before he shook his head, chuckling lightly. “The original families were super powerful. More so than most of us these days, as most of us come from mixed blood. They had ‘crests’. Specific powers that only their bloodline had. The details of what those powers were have never been recorded, only known by word of mouth. Their strongest family secrets.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So… a superpower?” Waverly smirked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pretty much. Another stolen trope. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they do not have Kryptonite weaknesses. Don’t even ask.” Jeremy grinned. “As far as records state, there are only four remaining of the original thirteen bloodlines. Del Rey, Holliday, Clootie...” He paused, sheepish guilt crossing his face as he wrung his hands together, avoiding Waverly’s gaze. “And erm… and Levine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Levine</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Waverly shouted, jumping to her feet in agitated shock. She winced as she registered her own volume, glancing around the room to make sure no-one had entered, before dropping her voice to a low murmur. “J.Levine?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can only assume so.” Jeremy winced apologetically. “I don’t know any first names, so I don’t know who he is. I only know what I can find in the archives. Which, as you saw yourself, is very little.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly slumped back in her seat, her head starting to swim. She had gone from having no information whatsoever, to having far too much information, but still no answers. She ran her hands over her face, exhaustion hitting her in full force. She glanced at the clock. 9:30am. She had to be at the office before 10am, and she had no idea how she was supposed to face a day of work now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>꧁꧂</span>
  
  
  <span>꧁꧂</span>
  
  
  <span>꧁꧂</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly couldn't help the childlike excitement that she felt as she skipped into the office. The morning had felt overwhelming, and there had been a lot to take in really fast, but something in the crisp air had cleared her mind as she'd made the brisk walk from the library, and now all she could focus on was how badly she wanted to test what she could do. She had swapped numbers with Jeremy, and he had promised to send over the information she needed on what the limitations were, but she couldn't wait to get started on the basics.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A </span>
  <em>
    <span>witch. </span>
  </em>
  <span>An honest to God witch, with magical freaking powers. She barked out a disbelieving laugh, adrenaline soaking every one of her muscles as she dropped down into her chair. She studied her hands, her fingers trembling. She'd noticed Jeremy quirk his eyebrow every time he used his powers, and she figured it didn't take a huge amount of inference to work out that her trigger lay in her fists. She wondered if it mattered which one? She shrugged, flexing the fingers of her right hand, and then her left tentatively. Her right hand felt better. Seemed a good place to start. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and closed the fingers of her right hand in on themselves, her gaze focused on her desk drawer. She squealed in awed delight as the drawer flew open, then clasped a hand to her mouth, scanning the room to ensure Ted was still safely tucked away in his office. The word </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunters</span>
  </em>
  <span> still lingered in her mind, and her blood ran cold when she thought of anyone nearby being able to pick up on her power. She shook her head, ridding her mind of the unwanted paranoia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She giggled, almost sprinting to the small kitchenette at the back of the office. She set two mugs on the surface, jumping on the spot in anticipation as she clenched her fist, biting back more squeals of delight as they filled; first hers with coffee, and then Ted’s with tea. She gathered the mugs, her mind swimming and her cheeks aching from grinning as she approached Ted’s office. She fixed her gaze on the closed door, and clenched her fingers around the handle of her coffee mug. She exhaled in awe as the process still worked, and she heard the knock ring out against the wood. Waverly grinned, clenching her fingers again, shaking her head in amazement as the door swung open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took a step into the room, her blood running cold with sudden panic as she was met with Ted's gaze already on her, his eyebrows raised, peering over his glasses at her in bemused suspicion. She swallowed thickly, hoping he hadn't noticed anything untoward. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hunters</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Waverly winced, pushing the word to the back of her brain once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay, Waverly?” Ted sat forwards, leaning his elbows on the desk as he studied her face with a small smirk. “Did you find what you needed in the archives?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, thank you Ted. Was just curious, that was all.” Waverly smiled widely, hoping it would be enough to placate her curious boss. She placed his drink carefully on his desk, and backed out of his office with a small wave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She settled herself back at her desk, almost giddy with her excitement. She wrapped one hand around her steaming coffee, grinning as she inhaled the scent. She clenched her fist, giggling softly as two chocolate digestive biscuits appeared on the desk in front of her. This magic thing definitely sounded like it came with some drawbacks, but for now this was something she could really get used to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sharp buzz of her mobile caught her attention as it vibrated face down against the desk. She grinned, using her power to flip the phone over, her brows drawing together as she spotted the unknown number flashing across the screen. She hesitated for a moment, before swiping the button and lifting it to her ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Waverly? It’s Nicole.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly grinned, butterflies instantly beating in her stomach at the sound of the redhead's voice. She leaned back in her chair, the fingers of her free hand twirling a pen with nervous excitement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, stranger.” She winced, the effort to sound casual just sounding alien on her lips. She shook her head in self-berating amusement as she heard Nicole chuckle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey yourself. I’m sorry to call when I know you must be at work, but my shifts are all over the place and...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, don’t be sorry." Waverly interrupted, hearing the slight tremble of nerves in Nicole's voice and wanting immediately to reassure her. "I’m... kinda glad you called.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Nicole's voice dropped lower, the husk in it causing Waverly's stomach to flip. “Why so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm. Well, because I’m kinda hoping Purgatory’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>finest</span>
  </em>
  <span> officer is about to ask me out to dinner?” Waverly grinned as she spoke, and she knew it carried in her words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, well I’ll let Officer Lonnie know you’re after him.” Nicole's tone and the huff of a laugh that followed her words betrayed the playful grin that Waverly knew was plastered across the redhead's face. “I’m on the next couple of graveyard shifts, but... what are you doing on Friday night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure I have a date.” Waverly teased, twirling the pen between her fingers as she heard Nicole's breath hitch, and then exhale in a light chuckle as the penny dropped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s... you mean with me, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean with you.” Waverly bit her lip to keep from giggling at the audible sigh of relief on the other end of the line.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll pick you up at 7:30?” Nicole’s voice lowered again, and Waverly swallowed thickly. “Text me the address.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will do. I’ll see you Friday, Nicole </span>
  <em>
    <span>Haught</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have a good day, Waverly </span>
  <em>
    <span>Earp</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly bit back a squeal as the line rang off, and she clutched the phone to her chest. She blew out a heavy breath, her stomach somersaulting with adrenaline. She slid the phone back onto her desk, pulling her keyboard closer in an effort to force her mind to focus on her work. She chuckled as the thought crossed her mind that she'd never told Nicole her last name. She wondered if she worked alongside Wynonna, and if her sister ever talked about her to the redhead. A date. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You knew you weren't getting a fic from me without a fluffy, flirty Wayhaught chapter ;)</p><p>Thank you as always for reading, I love hearing what you think! </p><p>I do have this written completely, so I'm struggling to stick to my posting schedule because I get too excited! ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Waverly’s stomach clenched with her nerves as she studied her image in the full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. She growled in frustration, pulling her dress over her head and tossing it onto the ever growing pile of rejected outfits. She was fast running out of time before Nicole would be arriving to pick her up for their date, and nothing she tried on seemed suitable. Everything was either too dressy, or not dressy enough, and she wanted to make an impression. She needed something that was casual enough for a small town restaurant, but that would draw Nicole’s eyes; darken them beyond their natural warm mocha. She smirked, visualising an outfit she’d tried on in a shopping mall once, and never been able to justify buying. She clenched her fist, biting her lip in satisfaction as her reflection changed, the dress appearing already fitted perfectly over her curves. Black lace clung tightly to her torso, thin straps leading into a criss cross over the muscles of her shoulders. The lace that sat tight around her abs gave way to looser material; pinks and blues jumping out from large, floral features across the sides. The dress cut just above her knees, and she clenched her fist once more, adding simple black heels, thin straps crossing over to tie around her ankles. She grinned. <em> This </em> was what she needed. Elegant enough, but she knew it highlighted her best features in a way that she hoped would make her date squirm.</p><p>“Hey Waverly, have you seen…”</p><p>Waverly jumped as the door flung open, her reflection replaced by her sister stood in her doorway, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a half eaten donut in the other. Wynonna halted, her sentence forgotten as she raised an eyebrow, letting out a low whistle.</p><p>“Hot date, sis?”</p><p>“Mmhmm.” Waverly grinned, pushing Wynonna to the side so that she could push the door up again, twisting to each side so she could study her reflection. “Very <em> Haught </em> indeed.” She smirked, winking playfully at her sister. If her suspicions were correct, and Wynonna knew Nicole, she’d figure it out quickly enough.</p><p>Wynonna took another bite of her donut, her face scrunched in confusion for a brief moment, before her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. </p><p>“Shut the fucking front door!” Wynonna threw the remainder of her donut over her shoulder, ignoring Waverly’s stutters of protest. “You’re Haught’s date? No wonder she was so smug, that sneaky son of a ...”</p><p>The sound of the doorbell ringing cut Wynonna short, and the older Earp wriggled her eyebrows, an impish grin spreading across her face. Waverly launched herself at her sister, grabbing at her just too late as Wynonna skidded out of the room, closing the door behind her. Waverly groaned as she heard Wynonna’s footsteps thump down the stairs, and the latch click on the front door. She sighed, resigning herself to her older sister’s antics. She cracked the door open, straining her ears to hear the muffled voices as she returned to the mirror to apply her make-up.</p><p>“Holy shit, Haught-stuff!” Wynonna’s voice rang out through the hallway, and Waverly shook her head in amusement. “You scrub up well, is that all for me? I always<em> knew </em>you had a little crush.”</p><p>“That’s… not untrue, I’ll give you that. You’re just not the Earp I’m crushing <em> on </em>.” </p><p>Nicole’s voice was softer, quieter than Wynonna’s, but Waverly could <em> hear </em> the smug grin on the redhead’s face. She rolled her eyes, laughing softly at the obviously comfortable dynamic between the two women. Wynonna wasn’t someone to make friends easily so as far as Waverly was concerned, this spoke volumes for the kind of person that Nicole was, and she found herself even more excited to get to know the redhead.</p><p>“<em> Ow, </em> what the <em> fuck, </em> Earp?”</p><p>Waverly winced as Nicole’s voice followed a dull slapping sound, and everything she knew about her sister told her that Wynonna had clouted her date round the back of the head. </p><p>“That’s for hitting on my sister.” Wynonna’s hissed voice was only just audible through the house.</p><p>The slap sounded again, followed by a groan, and Nicole’s increasingly irritated voice. </p><p>“<em> Oi, fuck </em> off!”</p><p>“And <em> that’s </em>for being all secretive about it.” </p><p>Waverly heard Nicole chuckle in response, and the pop as Wynonna pulled the cork from her whiskey bottle. She paused to smooth out her dress and scrunch the waves through her hair before hurrying down the stairs. She slowed as she reached the bottom, taking a deep breath before stepping into the hallway, her face breaking into a grin almost immediately as Nicole turned to face her. Deep mocha eyes sparkled as they met her gaze, then widened as they dropped slowly over her body.</p><p>“Wow. Waverly, you look…” Nicole paused, her cheeks tinting pink as her eyes flicked back to the brunette’s gaze.</p><p>Just as Nicole opened her mouth to finish her sentence, Wynonna leaned forwards, slapping her round the back of the head for the third time. Nicole's eyes hardened and her jaw set tight, her teeth gritted, and her cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn't bother to look at the older Earp.</p><p>“I was <em> going </em> to say <em> beautiful </em>.” Nicole’s eyes softened as she let them drift over Waverly’s body once more, her dimples popping in full force as she smiled widely.</p><p>Waverly felt her stomach flip as she let the words, and the dark twinkle of the redhead’s eyes, wash over her. She traced Nicole’s body with her own eyes, taking in the fitted, deep green jumpsuit that clung tightly to curves that Waverly could only have dreamed would lie beneath the uniform she usually wore. The officer's hair was down, pulled straight around her shoulders, and the effect was almost overwhelming to Waverly. She swallowed thickly, dragging her eyes back to meet her date's. </p><p>“You look pretty damn good yourself… out of that uniform.” Waverly grinned, feeling her nerves settle slightly as the inside joke made Nicole chuckle.</p><p>The air that had thickened so quickly between them was brutally cut as Wynonna gagged loudly beside them, and Waverly snapped her head to the side, scowling at her sister. Wynonna shrugged, shooting a warning glare in Nicole’s direction as she pushed past them and headed for the living room, whiskey bottle still in hand. Waverly rolled her eyes and turned back to Nicole, feeling the butterflies beat harder as she found the redhead already looking back at her, her wide eyes almost a little dazed and her lips curled into a small smile.</p><p>“You ready to go?” Waverly beamed, gesturing towards the door.</p><p>“Yeah…” The response was hushed in an exhale, and Waverly couldn’t help but feel a little smug as the officer shook her head as if to pull herself from her daze.</p><p>"Have fun kids. Stay out late, but if you don't come home at all, I'm burying Haught!"</p><p>Wynonna’s voice raised gradually as she shouted after them, and Waverly shook her head with a chuckle as she finally closed the door between her sister and her evening with Nicole.</p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂           ꧁꧂           ꧁꧂</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The restaurant was one Waverly had never been to, just outside of town. The building was small, low ceilings and exposed beams combined with the warm glow of string lights that gave an almost fairytale feel. Each table was set with various tealights, and the walls were adorned with paintings and framed pages of classic literature. Waverly grinned as they were led through the restaurant to their table, tucked away in the corner of the room. It was the perfect location for a first date; the tables around them were dotted with enough people that they didn’t feel exposed, but the atmosphere was quiet enough that it was easy to feel as though they were alone.</p><p>Waverly opened the menu, excitement sparking through her veins as she took in the options, quickly realising that everything on offer before her was vegan. She flicked her gaze to Nicole in surprise, her eyes sparkling with intrigue.  </p><p>“Are you vegan?”</p><p>“No.” Nicole shrugged shyly, her lips curled up in a small smile. “But your sister has mentioned before that you are.” </p><p>Waverly beamed, feeling her stomach flip yet again at the redhead’s words. Wynonna hadn’t known until tonight that Waverly was Nicole’s date, which meant that this had been a prior conversation. Most likely something said in passing, that Nicole had remembered and taken on board, and the thought made Waverly’s chest swell. She leaned forwards, resting her forearms on the table as she let her eyes roam Nicole’s face.</p><p>“So, you work closely with Wynonna?”</p><p>“You could say that.” Nicole laughed, nodding her head. “I don’t think she’s too happy with my intervention, really. She thinks I’m here to ‘bust her balls’.” She grinned, cocking her fingers in air quotes around the turn of phrase.</p><p>“And are you?”</p><p>Nicole leaned forwards, mirroring Waverly’s stance as she searched the brunette’s eyes with her own. Something in the prolonged gaze, the twinkle in her eyes, and the moment of pause held an almost mysterious air that trickled down Waverly’s spine. She held her breath for a moment, transfixed by Nicole’s gaze.</p><p>“Kinda.” Nicole grinned, the mysterious air broken, allowing Waverly to let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. “I was brought in to help her investigate a particular run of crimes that I have some experience in from my previous post.” Nicole dropped her eyes to Waverly’s lips so briefly that the brunette wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it, before she fixed them once again on hazel, her cocky grin flashing her dimples. “I’ve made this move permanently though... in case you’re wondering.”</p><p>A loud clatter sounded behind Waverly, and both women snapped their heads towards the source of the sound. A waiter had dropped a set of cutlery beside the table of an elderly couple, a few tables over from where Waverly and Nicole were seated. Waverly winced, her eyes trained on the tray balanced on the palm of the waiter's hand as he bent down to retrieve the cutlery. The tray was not empty, two full wine glasses set atop, wobbling precariously with the movement. The waiter fumbled, losing his balance ever so slightly as he stood, but it was enough to unsettle a wine glass, the liquid sloshing as the stem started to tilt. Waverly didn't even think about her movements. She clenched her fist, her power pushing the glass back onto its base just in time to prevent the contents from spilling over the woman's lap. She exhaled heavily, grinning as the waiter placed the tray safely on the table, apologising profusely for the stumble.</p><p>Waverly turned back to Nicole, her grin faltering as she was met with mocha eyes searching her face intently, brows slightly drawn in curious interest. She felt her cheeks heat as panic surged through her, and she fought to keep the smile plastered across her face. There was no way Nicole could have known she had done that. Of course there wasn't. <em> Was there? </em></p><p>"Whew, that was lucky. Almost a disaster for that woman!" Waverly kept her voice light, praying the panic she felt couldn't be heard in her tone.</p><p>She breathed a sigh of relief as Nicole’s face relaxed, and her dimpled smirk returned to her lips.</p><p>“So what do you do, Waverly Earp?" Nicole grinned, pausing briefly before dropping her voice playfully. "You know, besides flirt mercilessly with flustered police officers who don’t stand a chance?” She winked, chuckling softly as Waverly’s cheeks tinted red.</p><p>The conversation flowed easily between them, and the time passed far quicker than Waverly had expected. She quickly found her cheeks aching with Nicole's sharp wit, and the butterflies beating hard in her stomach under the officer's effortless charm. She could feel herself being pulled under, and everything in Nicole’s warmth and assured nature made her believe she was nothing but safe to let herself fall.</p><p>“I’ve got this.” </p><p>Nicole’s hand covered the check, pulling the slip out of Waverly’s reach as she pulled her wallet from the pocket of her jacket, shaking her head with a grin at the brunette’s attempts to protest.</p><p>“<em> Oh </em>, what is this? Chivalry as well as heroics, Officer Haught?” Waverly teased, her hand placed over the top of Nicole’s in protest.</p><p>“Please?” Nicole ducked her head, wide eyes pleading, her dimpled grin making Waverly’s stomach flip for the umpteenth time that evening.</p><p>“Hmmm. Okay.” Waverly relented, not moving her hand from Nicole’s. She held her gaze as she trailed her fingertips softly over the back of the redhead’s hand. “But only if I can take you out next time?”</p><p>“Next time?” Nicole’s smile grew impossibly wider, her eyebrow flicking playfully upwards.</p><p>“Mmhmm.” Waverly smirked, her spine tingling as Nicole flipped her hand over, linking their fingers together.</p><p>“Deal. Although I was erm…" Nicole’s eyes flicked to their linked fingers, and she bit her lip briefly, shaking her head almost in disbelief. “I was hoping maybe you’d be willing to let this time carry on just a little longer?”</p><p>“What did you have in mind?”</p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂           ꧁꧂           ꧁꧂</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Whilst it wasn’t overly late, the night was dark by the time they exited the restaurant, and Waverly wasn't able to watch from the windows as the car wound its way slowly through the gritted roads, but she knew her home well enough to know that the twists and turns led them over the hills that looked across the town. The drive was only a few minutes, but it took them far enough from the lights of Purgatory that the stars littered the sky brightly around them.</p><p>Nicole had been cheekily confident as they'd climbed into the car, insisting that the destination was to be a surprise, but her nerves were becoming more visible as she drove. She had grown quiet, her fingers drumming nervously on the wheel, and Waverly couldn’t help but watch her, finding something achingly endearing in the way that this seemed to <em> matter </em> to Nicole. Like it mattered what Waverly thought, and whether this was okay, and whether she had made the right choices to make the brunette happy. Like <em> Waverly </em>mattered. </p><p>Nicole pulled eventually into a layby, just a few minutes from the edge of Purgatory. They were high, Waverly knew, and the air was bitter as they stepped out of the car. She grinned as Nicole pulled a basket of blankets from her trunk, and she felt herself grow almost giddy as the officer stepped close, wrapping one tightly around her shoulders.</p><p>“Officer, should I be concerned that you’ve driven me into the middle of nowhere on our first date?” Waverly quipped, grinning widely as Nicole blushed.</p><p>"I erm… <em> no </em>. I-It’s just a minute's walk down this path." Nicole’s cheeks flushed deeper, and she stammered slightly as if registering for the first time how this may come across. "If that's not okay… we can... I can drive you home?”</p><p>Waverly grinned and shook her head, chuckling when Nicole breathed a subtle sigh of relief. She reached her hand out, lacing her fingers between Nicole’s with a grin, holding her close against her side as they started down the dark pathway. Not a minute later, they emerged into a small clearing, and Waverly’s breath left her body in a gasp. The clearing looked out over Purgatory; the twinkling lights of the town like stars beneath them. The view was beautiful, but what brought the prickle of tears to the back of Waverly’s eyes was the small open tent that lay in the centre of the clearing, its base lined with thick blankets and pillows. A carefully positioned log pile sat before it, and Waverly instantly recognised the peak shape of an unlit fire.</p><p>Noone had ever made an effort like this for any date with Waverly before, let alone a first date, and as she looked up at the redhead’s face, taking in the anticipation in wide eyes and the soft, hopeful smile on full lips, she couldn’t help but feel she already wanted more. </p><p>"Is this…" Nicole brought her hand up to rub the back of her neck in a nervous gesture. "Is this okay? It’s just I love it up here when it’s dark, and I wanted to share it with you but now I’m worried that it seems a bit much, and..."</p><p>"It’s beautiful!" Waverly whispered, leaning a little closer into Nicole’s side. "You did this for me?"</p><p>"Yeah." Nicole shrugged shyly, a deep blush colouring her cheeks. "Here, why don’t you get wrapped up, let me light the fire?"</p><p>"Impressive." Waverly smirked as Nicole swiftly and easily sparked the fire, the flames quickly growing enough to give off a radiating heat. </p><p>She nestled herself back into the snug of pillows and blankets, beaming widely as Nicole moved to sit beside her, holding up a bag of marshmallows and some skewers with a dimpled grin. She should have felt cold, even with the blankets and the fire. She always felt the cold, and with the bitter air biting around them she knew she should have felt it now. Yet with Nicole's body pressed up against her side, her thigh leaning against her own and their hands brushing every so often as they toasted their marshmallows and shared stories, Waverly felt a warmth run beneath her skin that she hadn't felt in a long time. Possibly even ever.</p><p>“You’re pretty good at this, aren’t you.” Waverly breathed, her eyes following the muscles that flexed below the redhead’s shoulders as she leaned forwards to tend to the flames.</p><p>“Building fires?" Nicole furrowed her brows, her face scrunching in thought. "I mean I was a pretty big camper as a kid…”</p><p>“No, I-I mean <em> this </em> . Dating. Making women feel good.” The words were out before she’d thought them through, and Waverly cringed, feeling the burn of a blush spread across her face and her chest as Nicole turned her head back to meet Waverly’s gaze over her shoulder, her eyebrow quirked, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “ <em> Special </em>, I-I mean.”</p><p>"Well, I don’t know about that." Nicole smirked as she leaned back, the movement bringing their bodies closer than they had been before. Her eyes didn't leave Waverly’s, and the air suddenly felt thicker in the brunette’s lungs as Nicole’s low voice continued. "There’s really only <em> one </em> woman I want to make feel that way.” </p><p>Waverly felt her pulse quicken, her breath tight in her throat as Nicole's dark eyes held her gaze for a lingering moment longer, before dropping openly to her lips. Every nerve in her body seemed to stand on end as the redhead leaned closer, and she closed her eyes, the anticipation overwhelming her. Nicole’s breath ghosted her lips, and she felt her own grow shaky as she waited for the touch she'd wanted all evening. </p><p>A loud scuffle behind them burst through the air between them, and Waverly squealed, scrambling to get closer to Nicole as cold fear shot through her body. Strong arms wrapped around her as Nicole pulled her close, pushing her between the tent and her own body. Waverly’s heart hammered in her throat as Nicole fumbled for her phone, flicking the torch light on and shining it out in the direction of the noise. She clutched at Nicole’s shoulders, feeling them drop beneath her hands as the redhead exhaled.</p><p>"It’s a pine marten." Nicole whispered, chuckling softly as Waverly breathed an audible sigh of relief. She relaxed her hold, but didn't remove her arm, keeping the brunette close as she continued. "But erm… maybe we should head back. Before the bears really do gatecrash.”</p><p>Waverly nodded, disappointment washing over her as Nicole’s arm dropped and she moved away to begin gathering up their things. She instantly missed the officer's touch, and she smiled to herself as she realised how much she already craved it.</p><p>Waverly should have known that Nicole Haught would be the kind of woman to walk her date right to the door. She should have known, and yet it still made her stomach flip when the officer put the car into park and stepped out of the vehicle, without even a moment's hesitation. She linked her fingers through Nicole’s as they walked slowly up the short pathway to the porch steps, wanting to prolong any contact she could before the evening ended. As they reached the porch, Waverly turned to face Nicole, toying gently with her keys in an effort to stall for time. </p><p>"Thank you for tonight, Nic…" </p><p>Waverly heard the tremble in her own voice and she blushed, feeling suddenly shy in the midst of a moment that always came laced with uncertainty. A first date, the end of the night, the hopeful chance of a kiss and a promise… she could feel her blood pounding with anticipation, and she huffed out a soft laugh, dropping her eyes to her feet.</p><p>“I erm…" Nicole’s voice carried the same tremble as Waverly’s own did, but her movements were surer, and the porch step creaked below them as she took a steady step closer. "I had a really great time tonight, Wave. I'd really like to see you again. If erm.. if you want to, of course." </p><p>Waverly kept her face turned down, but she flicked her gaze up to Nicole’s, a wide smile pulling at her lips. The officer's tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Waverly’s eyes immediately dropped to trace the movement. Nicole stepped closer, her voice a little lower as she spoke again.</p><p>"And also, if it’s okay with you, I'd really like to..." </p><p>Nicole’s words were shaky, the nerves sounding clear in her voice, but the determined fire in her eyes burned through Waverly’s skin, and she held her breath, her stomach somersaulting as she waited for the redhead to continue. </p><p>The words didn't come. Nicole stepped closer, dark eyes searching Waverly's as if looking for any signs of hesitation. She paused, just for a moment - an offering. A chance to allow Waverly to collect herself; to step away if she wanted to, before she closed the gap between them, wrapping her arm around the brunette’s waist. The fingers of her other hand reached tentatively to hook under her chin, tilting her face up to meet her own.</p><p>Nicole's fingers closed gently around Waverly’s jaw as she pulled her into a kiss, their lips sinking together effortlessly. Waverly’s hands found purchase over the small of Nicole’s back, pressing firmly in an effort to pull the redhead’s body as close to her own as possible. The kiss was slow, the movement of their lips soft and gentle, exploring the new territory almost tentatively. Until Waverly nipped lightly on Nicole’s bottom lip, pulling gently at the flesh with her teeth, drawing a soft groan from the officer that shot straight between the brunette’s legs. Waverly’s own responding moan vibrated through the kiss, and it deepened instantly; Nicole’s tongue sinking into the brunette’s mouth, claiming her in what was almost definitely the hottest kiss she had ever experienced. </p><p>Waverly felt arousal pull hard between her legs, and she clenched her thighs in an effort to compose herself. She broke the kiss and pulled back, needing to put some distance between them before she lost all coherent thought to her rapidly overwhelming desire. She opened her eyes, immediately feeling her core clench as she took in Nicole's dark, hooded eyes, her flushed cheeks, and her parted lips, curled in a slightly dazed smile. She groaned, immediately pulling the redhead back in, feeling Nicole’s lips quirk as she smiled into the kiss.</p><p>She broke away with a giggle as the redhead's grin grew wider, twisting her fingers into the front of Nicole’s jumpsuit in an effort to ground herself against her. With one last chaste kiss, Waverly stepped back, biting her lip coyly as Nicole's dazed, awestruck eyes tracked her movements. </p><p>"I should erm…" She grinned, gesturing to the house behind her.</p><p>"Yeah…" Nicole chuckled softly, bringing her hand to the back of her neck in an endearingly nervous gesture. </p><p>Waverly’s smile grew impossibly wider  and she bit down on her lip to halt the invite that sat loaded on her tongue. <em> Later </em>. She was pretty sure they had time. </p><p>“Goodnight, Nicole.”</p><p>"Sweet dreams, Waverly."    </p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Carved</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sooooo turns out I can't stick to posting once a week. Fuck it, when the mood strikes 😉😂</p><p>Thank you all for your feedback! It means a lot to me for this one, as it's not my usual strain! 😊</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Waverly pushed her mittened hands into her pockets, the morning air harsh on her reddening cheeks. As much as she felt the cold, she loved the autumn and the winter mornings. Everything always felt so fresh, and so clean, and so new. She didn't usually take this route to work, and she promised herself she would do so more as she took in the large blanket of crisp, untrodden snow over the park. It almost felt like it held secrets that only those who woke before the usual busier crowds could hear. She was up far earlier than usual this morning, her spirits high and still almost giddy from her date with Nicole, even days later. She’d gotten ready and made breakfast with her magic, and she’d found she wasn’t quite sure what to do with all the extra time she was left with as a result. Hence, she had skipped out of the door earlier than she usually would, parked in the town, and walked the longer route to the office. </p><p>Waverly grinned as the sound of children's giggles reached her ears, and she turned towards the source. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, and sat on a nearby bench, watching the young family play in the snow. She had always loved to see families this way; young, carefree, playful, loving. <em> Together </em>. There was a bittersweet reassurance, somehow, in the knowledge that the kind of love that Waverly had dreamed of as a child was real. That even if she herself hadn't caught the luck, other children around her grew up strong, stable, loved, protected. She chuckled as the young children tackled their father to the ground, giggles interrupting their frantic efforts to cover his wriggling body in the snow.</p><p><em> Magic. </em> Her own family had been nothing of the sort of families that Waverly had watched in this park as she'd grown older. No tumbles in the snow like the children before her now. No tiny sandwiches and fresh fruit from carefully packed picnic hampers in the spring. No tummy aches after cotton candy too soon before the spinners at the summer fair. No gruff warnings to her high school dates, or flashes of the camera for her senior prom, and no tears of pride and joy when she framed and hung the first degree she'd earned in her online courses, but... <em> magic </em> ? <em> That </em> was what they'd given her? </p><p>It was inherently easy, somehow, for Waverly to understand that she had this power. It seemed to fit. Like a glove knitted just for her hand, it was hers and only hers. It was like it had always been there. But what she couldn’t understand was how she hadn’t known. Why had nobody told her? <em> Who </em> had the power? Her mother? Her father? Did they <em> both? </em> Did Wynonna know? She had instantly wanted to run to her sister and tell her, but something had stopped her. The power was hers, and it felt like something she needed to guard. To protect, and to keep sacred. Just for a while.</p><p>Waverly shivered, shaking herself from her thoughts. She pulled her phone from her pocket, glancing at the time. 8:30am. The footprints through the park were starting to multiply; school children throwing snowballs and dragging their friends on the back of sleds; and office workers burying their faces deeper into their collars and their scarves as they hurried through the bitter air. Waverly inhaled sharply, clenching her fist on instinct as a young child lost their footing on the ice, her power subtly guiding them back onto steady feet. She grinned, shaking her head fondly at the look of shock and relief on the flushed little face.</p><p>Waverly settled back, enjoying the last few minutes of the early morning air before she needed to make her way to the office. She scanned the park, taking in the people, and the blues and the greens and the reds and the yellows of the hats and scarves and mittens that bobbed along in the white sea around her. Her breath caught in her throat, her stomach instantly flipping and her heartbeat doubling as she spotted a figure running along the circular path that lined the outside of the park. The neon yellow of high-visibility running gear and the strips of silver reflectors across the black torque were difficult to miss, but it was the red tousles that flowed from the end of the hat that caught Waverly’s attention and caused her cheeks to pull at a hopeful smile. She clenched her fist, her power allowing her vision to close in stronger, and broke into a wide grin as Nicole’s flushed face lay clear before her eyes. She stood, picking her way hastily across to the redhead’s path, readying herself for the crossover.</p><p>As Nicole neared her, Waverly hesitated. The officer was breathing rhythmically, in clear time with the pounding of her feet, but her eyes were focused, scanning the park around her. Her brows were set tight, and she seemed deep in concentration. Waverly faltered, uncertainty crossing through her as she wondered whether or not to interrupt Nicole’s focus. She breathed a sigh of relief as the officer's eyes landed on her face and softened immediately, her reddened cheeks dimpling in a beaming grin as she slowed to a walk in front of her, pulling her headphones from her ears.</p><p>"<em> Hey </em> , beautiful." Nicole’s voice was breathless, but her tone was bright, her pleasant surprise ringing clear. "My day just got a <em> whole </em> lot better."</p><p>Waverly blushed as her knees weakened, and she berated herself for how damn <em> easy </em> that had been to disarm her. Nicole’s face shone with the sheen of sweat, and the skin of her face and her neck glowed red from exertion in a distinctly unflattering contrast to the yellow of her zip up jacket, and yet somehow Waverly couldn’t think of a time when she’d looked sexier. She shook her head, chuckling softly.</p><p>“You know, for someone I’d never met until just recently, you sure do crop up a lot around here." Waverly grinned, reaching a mittened hand out to run along Nicole’s forearm. "If I didn’t know any better, Officer, I’d say you were following me.” She winked, keeping her tone light and playful.</p><p>Nicole’s eyes flickered for a moment, her brows twitching subtly and her grin faltering ever so slightly. Waverly opened her mouth to apologise; to explain that she’d been teasing, but the mischievous twinkle was back in mocha eyes before she could form the words, and Nicole grinned.</p><p>“Maybe I <em> am </em> ." Nicole teased, taking a step closer, the gap between them closing enough that Waverly was forced to look up to keep their eye contact. She smirked, her hands coming to rest on the brunette’s hips. “Or <em> maybe </em> I’m just drawn to you.”</p><p>“Hmm maybe.” Waverly murmured, trailing the fingers of both hands over the hem of Nicole’s jacket, meeting in the middle on the clasp of the zip and tugging gently. She smirked as she heard the redhead’s breath hitch.</p><p>“Can I cook you dinner?” Nicole’s hands slipped from Waverly’s hips as she spoke, moving round to the small of her back and gently pulling her closer.</p><p>"<em> Now? </em>" Waverly furrowed her brow, quirking her top lip in confusion as Nicole chuckled..</p><p>“Tonight?” Nicole grinned, her eyes flicking to Waverly’s lips. “My place?”</p><p>“It’s a date.” Waverly bit her lip with a deliberately coy smile, and she traced her finger up the zip of Nicole’s jacket, watching the officer swallow visibly as she reached the collar, closing her fingers over it and pulling her in close.</p><p>Nicole’s tongue flicked out to wet her lips, causing an unbidden heat to creep over Waverly’s skin and she gripped tighter on the officer’s collar. Nicole's hands pressed firmer on the small of Waverly’s back as she leaned in to kiss her, and the touch both grounded her and made her knees weaker. The kiss was brief; <em> almost </em> chaste but the heat seared under the surface and Waverly felt it trickle straight through her core. She darted her tongue over her own lips as Nicole pulled back, already missing the touch.</p><p>"I'll see you tonight. I'll text you the address.”</p><p>Nicole grinned, her eyes twinkling as she backed away, pushing her headphones back into her ears. She gave a small wave as she took off on her run, leaving Waverly glassy eyed, unable to tear her gaze from the retreating form, or to wipe the dazed smile from her face.</p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂            ꧁꧂            ꧁꧂</p><p> </p><p>Waverly hesitated as she stepped onto the small porchway of Nicole’s home. She knew she was a little early, but frankly she wasn’t entirely sure how to fill her time now that every task could be done so simply and so quickly with the clench of a fist. She had tried to wait at home, but her nerves and her excitement had made her restless, and so she had given up, figuring if she arrived early then maybe she could help Nicole out with the dinner. She rang the bell and took a deep breath, running her hands over the front of her dress as she heard heavy footsteps approaching behind the door.</p><p>Waverly grinned, her stomach fluttering with anticipation as she heard the latch click on the door, the smile faltering into a frown of confusion as the door pulled back and she was met with the face of her sister. </p><p>“Oh gross.” Wynonna rolled her eyes, though the corners of her lips tugged into a soft smirk. She turned on her heel to head back into the house, leaving the door open for Waverly behind her. “This’d better not be a booty call, Haught.”</p><p>Waverly followed Wynonna through the living room of the small home, towards a door in the far wall that she presumed would lead them through to the kitchen. Wynonna slipped through the door, and Waverly broke into a grin as Nicole skidded into view, still in her police uniform.</p><p>“Waverly, hey...” Nicole’s eyes were wide, an apology written behind them, and her voice was sheepish. “I am <em> so </em> sorry, the station heating is broken so we brought some work back here and I just <em> completely </em> lost track of time, and I meant to...”</p><p>Waverly wound her hands into the front of Nicole’s shirt, hearing the redhead’s voice stutter as she pulled her closer. She smirked, cutting the officer’s rambling apology off with a soft, lingering kiss.</p><p>“Hi,” Waverly breathed as she pulled back, chuckling as Nicole’s shoulders visibly dropped and she exhaled, melting into the brunette’s touch. “I’m early, it’s okay. You can go ahead and finish up, I can wait.”</p><p>Nicole grinned, leaning in to kiss Waverly chastely once more before she stepped aside, gesturing the brunette into the kitchen. Waverly felt her chest warm as she noticed the two place settings laid out at the small table, almost buried beneath the files and the photographs that littered the remainder of the surface. Wynonna sat on one of the four wooden chairs, resting on its back legs as she propped her boots up on the table. She sighed heavily, throwing another photo onto the jumbled pile, and running her hand through her hair. Waverly bit back a chuckle as Nicole shoved Wynonna’s feet off of the table as she passed her, and her sister flailed as she fought to keep her chair from tipping backwards.</p><p>Waverly knew the content strewn across the table was sensitive, and likely confidential, and so she tried her hardest to fix her gaze on <em> anything </em> but the jumble of files. But by nature Wynonna was messy, and Waverly Earp was nothing if not curious, and she couldn’t keep her eyes from flicking across the photos that lay scattered amongst the papers. Her gaze halted over the image that Wynonna had thrown down just moments before, and she felt the ice cold stab of fear shoot down her spine as she took in the subject. A body, contorted as it lay, with wide, bloodied lines marking out a specific wound across the chest. <em> Hunters. </em>Waverly shuddered, her heart racing as she stared, frozen in fear, at the sickening image. Hunters. That could be her. Did Wynonna and Nicole have any answers? Were they in danger?</p><p>Waverly jumped as soft hands landed on her hips as Nicole stepped up behind her, and she shivered with a smile as she felt soft lips plant a kiss below her ear. She hummed, turning her head to face the officer as she leaned back into the touch. It was crazy how easy it felt to be so close to the redhead, and how eagerly and naturally they sought each other's touch after just one date. Wynonna cleared her throat, and Waverly rolled her eyes, turning back to the table as Nicole chuckled. </p><p>"This looks gruesome." Waverly gestured to the table, wincing slightly as the words left her mouth and she felt Nicole stiffen behind her. "I guess I probably shouldn't see this…"</p><p>"Yeah. That's what Haught-shit here transferred for." Wynonna seemed unfazed, continuing to shuffle through the files as she spoke. "I've been investigating these murders. Massacres, in some cases, but I wasn’t getting anywhere and Sheriff Nedley thinks I can’t manage on my own." </p><p>"Earp…" </p><p>Nicole’s warning voice sounded, and Wynonna scoffed, throwing a mock scowl in the redhead’s direction. Waverly stroked her fingers lightly over the officer’s hand in reassurance. She could feel Nicole’s discomfort in the tense muscles of her arms and her stomach, but Waverly’s anxious fear was winning, and she kept her eyes trained on her sister as she pushed forward. </p><p>“They all have this… this <em> symbol </em> like, <em> carved </em> into their bodies?" She pulled the photo closer, all tentative hesitation lost in her burning need to understand. </p><p>"That's like, the <em> only </em> thing they all have in common!" Wynonna threw another photo down, frustration lacing her voice. "Some of them are people we just can't find any record of. Complete John Does."</p><p>"<em> Wynonna..." </em> </p><p>Nicole tried again, her voice lower, her fingers flexing against Waverly’s side as she tried to control her agitation. Wynonna ignored her and leaned forwards, her index finger pushing at various photos as she spoke, and Waverly let her eyes roam the faces of the many victims.</p><p>"Some of the people we actually <em> have </em> been able to identify have been missing for <em> years </em> before they turned up dead." </p><p>Waverly's breath caught in her throat and she tensed, feeling Nicole’s touch tighten around her waist in response. She knew some of the faces before her now, faces she had seen in her long searches through the library archives. She swallowed hard, her eyes flicking frantically over the discarded photos, searching for sandy hair and piercing blue eyes. She let out a half breath as she didn’t find the familiar face, her eyes still searching as her sister’s voice continued.</p><p>"Some of them look like they were murdered, but like… some look like they carved the symbol <em> themselves </em> and took their own life, it's… it's just horrific." Wynonna shuddered, and Waverly felt her blood run like ice down her spine. She had never seen her sister respond this way to a case before, and the thought gave her chills. Wynonna sat back, her fingers running through her hair as she spoke. "They have been happening for <em> years </em> , but there have been more than usual recently, in this area in particular. I… I just feel like they’re <em> looking </em>for someone, I…"</p><p>"<em> Earp </em>." </p><p>There was no mistaking the authority in Nicole’s voice this time, and the bark halted Wynonna in her tracks. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but she stopped talking and began to gather the files and the photos together, placing them into a large, dark folder.</p><p>"I'm sorry to pull rank, Waverly, but we really shouldn't be discussing this." Nicole’s voice was softer as she addressed the brunette, but Waverly didn't miss the final warning glare she threw in Wynonna's direction before her eyes softened, and she grinned. "And <em> I </em> have a dinner to make! I’m just going to change real quick, and then I’m all yours.” She leaned in close, her voice a low murmur in Waverly’s ear, scattering goosebumps over the brunette’s body and pulling deep between her legs as the words trickled through her bloodstream. “Can you get rid of your sister?” </p><p>Waverly watched as Nicole retreated, not even trying to stop her eyes from dropping to the way the dark khakis hugged tightly over the curves of her ass. </p><p>“Wynonna?" Waverly turned back to her sister, raising her eyebrows expectantly.</p><p>“Yes, Babygirl?”</p><p>“Get out.”</p><p>“<em> Wow </em>." Wynonna snapped her gaze up to Waverly’s, leaning back in her chair as she studied her sister’s face, a bemused smirk toying on her lips. "That's really how it's gonna be?"</p><p>"Well it's for your own good…" Waverly grinned, her eyes dancing with mischief. "When Nicole comes back I have every intention of just <em> grabbing </em> hold of her and just <em> nngh </em> …" Waverly growled, half rolling her eyes in an expression she <em> knew </em> would have her sister running for the door.</p><p>"<em> Alright! </em> " Wynonna slammed her eyes shut for a moment, before frantically gathering the papers into her bag. " <em> Jesus </em>, I'm going." </p><p>By the time Nicole made her way back downstairs, Waverly had settled herself onto the couch in the living room, and was mindlessly scrolling through her phone. She looked up as she heard footprints on the stairs, and felt her body respond immediately as the officer entered the room. Her hair was down, tousled in waves from the day in its plait, and ripped black jeans and a fitted burgundy flannel shirt hugged tightly to her curves. Waverly swallowed thickly as she let her eyes drift slowly over the officer’s body, her stomach flipping as she finally flicked them back to meet darkened eyes and a knowing smirk. It was magnetic. She was barely in control of her own movements as she stood from the couch, gripped hold of the collars of Nicole’s shirt and pulled her into a kiss that was instantly deep, and instantly <em> wanting </em>. Waverly would swear she could feel electricity pulse through her veins as Nicole’s tongue swept over her bottom lip, and she couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped her chest. She fisted her hands in Nicole’s hair, groaning as the redhead’s hands gripped her hips, pulling them flush together. Searing heat pooled rapidly in Waverly’s centre as the kiss deepened further, Nicole’s tongue drawing moans from her lips with every movement. Waverly’s hips bucked forwards as roaming hands ran over her ass, pulling her firmly into her, and she groaned, tugging gently in the officer’s hair. The movement seemed to spark a fire in Nicole, and Waverly’s stomach dropped and her clit pulsed as the redhead growled into the kiss, surging forwards until the brunette’s knees hit the couch and they fell back. </p><p>Somewhere in the back of Waverly’s mind, she knew that this was too fast. She knew that this was only their second date - the <em> beginning </em> of, no less - and that she needed to pull back. Needed to take her time, needed to savour everything that was Nicole. But her mind was hazy with her desire and her arousal, and the scent of vanilla and the feeling of the body pressed against her, and her hips rolled instinctively. She tugged firmer this time in red waves, earning a hoarse groan from Nicole’s lips as she pulled back from the kiss, her eyes slammed tightly shut with the effort to control herself.</p><p>"<em> Jesus </em>... Wave, wait." Nicole’s voice was low with the gravelly husk of arousal, her eyes darker as they opened than Waverly had seen them yet. "We-we need to slow down." </p><p>"Too much?" Waverly softened her grip in the officer’s hair, bringing her hands softly round to trail along her jaw.</p><p>"<em> No </em> …" Nicole grinned as she leaned forwards, connecting their lips again in a softer kiss, though the heat still burned on her tongue as she slipped it briefly into Waverly’s mouth before pulling back. "But also, <em> yes </em>. I like you, and as much as it feels like the most natural thing in the world to be touching you like this, I just…” Nicole pushed herself up onto her hands, bringing their bodies far apart enough to breathe in the heated air that sat between them, but she kept her legs entwined still with Waverly’s, and her eyes didn’t leave the brunette’s as she spoke softly. “Getting to know you feels pretty magical. This feels like something special, and I kinda don't want to wish away a second of that, you know? Is-is that okay?"</p><p>Waverly sighed contentedly at the words, tracing her fingers lightly over the shy smile on Nicole’s lips, breaking into a wide grin as the redhead kissed the pads. </p><p>"I can’t promise to behave <em> entirely </em> …" She rolled her hips up into Nicole’s, smirking at the groan she received in response, and leaned forwards to nip lightly on her bottom lip. "But <em> yes </em> . That's <em> more </em> than okay, and I feel the same way. You just look <em> very </em> sexy, and I got a little carried away.” She giggled. “So... dinner?"</p><p>Nicole broke into a beaming dimpled grin, leaning down to kiss Waverly hotly once more before pushing herself up and off of the couch, breaking their contact. Waverly grinned as the redhead  held her hand out to pull her up beside her.</p><p>"Dinner."</p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂            ꧁꧂            ꧁꧂</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> The air feels clearer tonight, though the grit and the snow billow around his feet as they pound on the ground. The trees of the forest don’t loom anymore, and the roads he runs are derelict. She knows they could be anywhere, but she can’t seem to shake the feeling that she knows them. That she knows the twists and turns he takes like they lead to her very being. They look somehow both exactly like the roads that lead through the hills of her home, and like nothing she’s ever seen. But she sees them. She sees them, she sees him and she hears him, and it’s all so much brighter tonight. She hears his voice, but tonight there’s something laced through the usually reassuring tone that makes her blood run cold. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It’s not what it seems. Things aren’t what they seem.” </em>
</p><p>Waverly groaned as the sound of her alarm pierced through the early morning silence, and she threw the blankets back with a growl of frustration. Things aren’t what they <em> seem </em> ? She ran her hands over her face, trying to wipe the hazy disorientation of sleep from her eyes. She dragged herself up onto her elbows, leaning back against the headboard as she clenched her fist, a cup of coffee materialising in her hands. The dreams were getting clearer, and her memory of them was getting stronger. If she had thought a few months ago that she would be able to recall the details of her dreams, she might have jumped for joy after years of yearning for answers that she couldn’t even find the questions to, but <em> now </em> ? The dreams were only frustrating her more and more every time, and she could feel the anger bubble below the surface as she reflected on what J.Levine had told her. Or what he <em> hadn’t </em> told her. Things aren’t what they seem. She scoffed. That might be a fine piece of advice, if she had any idea what things were supposed to freaking <em> seem </em> in the first place. She sighed, shaking her head and pulling her phone from her bedside table. The bar across the top of her screen told her she had two new messages, and she dragged the app open with her thumb. </p><p>Jeremy: <em> Soooo, how was your Haught date? ;) </em></p><p>Nicole: <em> Morning, beautiful. Is it too early to say I can’t wait to see you again? x  </em></p><p>Waverly grinned, firing off her replies to both.</p><p>Waverly: <em> Coffee at lunch? I’ll fill you in. ;) </em></p><p>Waverly: <em> Morning to you too, gorgeous. I don’t know, is it too early to say I wish I’d woken up with you? ;) x </em></p><p>She stretched, draining the rest of her coffee before dragging herself from the bed, clenching her fist to get herself ready. She made her way down to the kitchen, padding slowly through the quiet house. The novelty of her power had quickly worn off in the kitchen, and she’d found she missed the smells and the art of cooking for herself. She moved towards the fridge, halting as her eyes landed on a white envelope propped against the vase of flowers that always sat in the centre of the round kitchen table. The envelope held no address and no stamp, and only her first name lettered neatly in elaborate cursive across the centre. Waverly frowned. She didn't recognise the handwriting - it was certainly a far cry from Wynonna’s messy scrawl, and the lack of a bike in the driveway suggested her sister hadn't been home overnight, so how had it arrived?</p><p>Waverly reached her hand out, taking the envelope tentatively between her fingers. Her heart sank, her blood running cold as she turned it in her hands, her fingers tracing the wax seal, blood red with no imprint. She couldn’t say what, or how, or why, but <em> something </em> ran through her fingertips; an undercurrent beneath the fibers of the sealed page that told her that this was power. <em> High </em> power. But, it couldn't be, could it? Jeremy had said…</p><p>
  <em> No. </em>
</p><p>No. Surely not. It wasn’t possible. Waverly swallowed hard, her hands shaking and her heart thumping as she peeled back the seal, slipping the letter from within with trembling hands.</p><p>The words on the page seemed to seep into Waverly’s skin; every letter driving ice through her bloodstream, their meaning dragging her heart further into the depths of her stomach. Nausea overwhelmed her, and she gripped the table as her head swam.</p><p>She needed air. <em> Now. </em> With the letter gripped tightly in her hand, Waverly tore through the front door, the tyres of her jeep screeching on the icy gravel as she raced towards the town with one destination in mind.</p><p>Waverly rushed through the library, her trembling muscles not able to carry her fast enough as she raced desperately towards the small archive room at the end of the grand building. She blinked back tears, her cold panic clutching tight in her chest as she finally burst through the arched doorway.</p><p>She didn't even bother to scan the room. She knew she wouldn't need to; that Jeremy would appear before she could cover every corner. </p><p>"<em> Jeremy?" </em>She halted, her voice strained with the fight against her tears as she yelled out.</p><p>“<em> Jeez </em>, no need to shout, Earp. I thought we were meeting at lunch?”</p><p>Waverly didn't even flinch as he appeared beside her, and she turned to face him with tear filled eyes, her throat burning with the effort to hold her composure. </p><p>“Jeremy, I…” </p><p>The tears finally formed on Waverly’s cheeks, and she trailed off as she watched her friend's face fall, his gaze dropping to the envelope clutched in her grip. Wordlessly, Jeremy ushered her towards the high backed chairs, his eyebrow quirking as he silently produced a coffee and a box of tissues. Waverly’s hands shook as she passed the letter across the small table, nodding silently for him to open it. She watched his face, his brows drawn tight and his lips twitching, muttering the words under his breath as he read them.</p><p>“<em> Dearest Waverly </em>?” Jeremy scoffed, his voice still mumbled as if the words were intended for himself rather than for Waverly to hear. “No address, and not even a full name? That’s embarrassingly informal.”</p><p>Waverly felt her breath grow shaky, the tears falling freely but silently as Jeremy’s eyes grew wide, his skin paling as he read further.</p><p>“<em> We send our deepest condolences in light of your father’s recent passing.” </em>His voice was shaky, and he lowered the page with trembling hands, his sympathetic eyes laced with confusion as they searched the brunette’s. “R-recent?”</p><p>Waverly nodded, coherent thoughts failing her as the words swam in her mind. She didn’t have any more answers than Jeremy did, and she was starting to feel really overwhelmed.</p><p>“<em> You must take your father’s place in Domhan Draiocht. </em> ” Jeremy’s voice cracked. “ <em> Shit </em>, Waverly…”</p><p>She’d read the words herself, but something in hearing them spoken aloud made her blood burn, and her fear and her frustration and her devastation boiled to the surface in a rage that made her jaw shake and her voice harden. The lack of answers was instantly suffocating, and she stood, beginning to pace, her muscles now restless under the surge of agitation. </p><p>“My <em> father </em> ?” She spat, throwing her hands in the air in a disbelieving fury.  “My fucking <em> father </em> , Jeremy? My father has been dead for <em> fifteen years </em>.”</p><p>“Waverly, I...” Jeremy tried, his expression only sympathy, even under the direction of the brunette’s harsh tone, and he shuffled in his seat as he tried to keep up with her pacing.</p><p>“This <em> has </em> to be a mistake. There has to be another explanation.” Waverly cut him off, halting her movements and turning to face him. Her voice softened, desperation twisted in her words as she spoke. “I-I can’t go. Jer, I don’t want to. I don’t <em> want to. </em> I want to stay with Wynonna, and with Ted, and with you, and- <em> and </em>...” She halted, trailing off as the reality began to sink in; of the words on the paper and what they meant for her. She felt sick.</p><p>“And Nicole.” </p><p>Jeremy’s soft voice finished for her, and the tears filled in her eyes again as she met his gaze.</p><p>“There is absolutely <em> no way </em> I am leaving her Jer, not right now.” She bit back a sob, sinking back into her chair, her fingers closing tightly over the arms. “I-I can’t, we-we’ve only just started!”</p><p>Waverly shook her head, closing her eyes as she tried to gather her thoughts. This was <em> crazy. </em> Everything about this was just crazy. The dreams and the power and the council and the letter. How could any of this be right? She was just Waverly. <em> Just </em>Waverly Earp, from Purgatory, how could any of this be meant for her?</p><p>“This has to be wrong.” She ran her hands through her hair, her mind swimming as she tried to process how this could possibly be happening. “They must have the wrong Waverly, or-or my family has some distant cousin they meant to contact, or...”</p><p>The thought crushed in her chest, pushing the air from her lungs with a force that was almost painful. Could that be possible? It wasn’t <em> impossible. </em>She had been lied to all her life, one way or another. Nausea waved through her, and she suddenly felt drained. Her voice was barely a whisper, yet she still heard the break in it as she spoke aloud the thought that suddenly felt like the only one that made any sense.</p><p>“Or I’m not an Earp.”</p><p>She felt dizzy, her skin both hot and cold, and her chest grew ever tighter. Jeremy was by her side in an instant, and she clutched at his shoulders in an effort to stay grounded as the room spun around her. Her head was swimming, and she could cling only to one singular coherent thought.</p><p>“I need to see Mama.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Belong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've learned that I am not a post once weekly kinda person. I'm a post twice weekly kinda person and maybe I just need to accept that and not kid myself or you 😉</p>
<p>Thank you for your feedback! Much love.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly turned the handle to the homestead slowly, her heart heavy in her chest as she padded through the hallway towards the kitchen. Wynonna’s bike had been in the driveway, and so she knew her sister was home. She felt the sting of bile rise in her throat as she neared the kitchen. Of all the anxiety and the fear that Waverly had felt over the past week, somehow this felt the strongest. This conversation with Wynonna had only two possible outcomes. Either she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in which case she had been lying to her all of her life, or she didn’t. In which case Waverly was about to break her heart. Not to mention that she might think Waverly had lost her damn mind. She took a deep breath, exhaling shakily as she reached the kitchen door. She could hear the sounds of scuffling and clattering pans and an out of tune rendition of a Hanson song, and it all felt so blissfully mundane in that moment. So normal, so workaday, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>content</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that it shattered every shred of Waverly’s composure to know that she was about to break all of that down. She couldn’t fight the tears, and she let them fall. Wynonna would see them soon enough anyway. She stepped into the kitchen, immediately wrapping her arms around her sister’s waist from behind, burying her face between Wynonna’s shoulder blades with a sniffle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, sis, I’m just about to make some tacos, did you want…” Wynonna paused as Waverly sniffled, and she craned her neck back in an effort to see her sister’s face. “Shit, Waverly, what’s wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wy…” Waverly stepped back to let Wynonna turn to face her. She forced herself to hold her sister’s gaze, searching the piercing blue for signs of honesty. “Have you ever lied to me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wynonna’s brows drew close, and her eyes were filled with so much concern as she studied Waverly’s face, that the brunette couldn’t hold the eye contact. She turned away, forcing her shaky legs to take her to the table, and slumped down into one of the rickety wooden chairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, I-I…” Wynonna started, her lips curled slightly in confusion and her eyes flicking upwards in thought. “I told you that I never slept with Pete Yorke in twelfth grade, and that those cigarettes belonged to Mercedes… </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh </span>
  </em>
  <span>and that I had no idea where your S Club 7 album went when really I stood on it when I came in your room to steal shinies from your Pokemon card collection to sell to Karl for...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Wynonna.” Waverly cut her off, her quiet frustration drowned by the desperation in her voice. “I mean like… </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> lied to me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Waverly, what’s going on?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wynonna’s voice was softer now, a tremor running through it as she moved towards her sister, taking a seat beside her at the table. She pulled a hip flask from her back pocket as she sat, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. She offered it to Waverly, sheepishly screwing the cap and placing the flask on the table as her sister declined.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked so apprehensive, and so earnest that it made the tears fall thicker down Waverly’s face. She wiped at her face with the back of her sleeve, blinking hard in an effort to stem the flow. She needed to pull herself together. She stood, ignoring Wynonna’s baffled protests, and moved to the countertop where her sister had begun to place the ingredients for tacos. She collected them into her arms and placed them on the table in front of Wynonna. She sat back down, closing her eyes for a moment of composure, unable to collect herself under Wynonna’s baffled stare. She blew a breath through pursed lips, willing her voice to stay steady as she began.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, apparently…” Waverly pointed at the ingredients on the table, and waited until Wynonna’s eyes traced the movement before she acted. She clenched her fist, her eyes fixed anxiously on Wynonna’s expression as the ingredients formed instantly into steaming tacos. “I-I’m a witch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly’s lips trembled as she watched her sister’s face; slack jawed, her wide eyes unmoving and unblinking as she stared at the tacos. The silence was deafening, and Waverly longed to fill it, but she wasn’t sure that there were words in any of the languages she knew that could make this easier for Wynonna to process, and so she sat, wringing her hands anxiously as she waited. Waverly couldn’t hazard a guess at how long she waited, but with every passing second her heart seemed to feel heavier, and her fingers seemed to shake just a little more. Wynonna’s jaw trembled, and Waverly’s heart leapt into her throat as she moved as if to speak, then sank to her stomach as she closed her mouth again, slamming her eyes shut and shaking her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wynonna, please say something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you." Wynonna’s voice was tight, disbelief and something almost scornful in her tone. She didn't open her eyes, and she brought her fingers up to massage her temples. "Because I could have sworn that you just said…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That I’m a witch." Waverly fought against the agitation in her voice. She brought her hands to Wynonna’s wrists, easing them away from her face and encouraging her sister to open her eyes. When she spoke again her tone was almost pleading. "Wynonna you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>saw</span>
  </em>
  <span> the proof, so please just believe me because that is kind of the least crazy part of what I’m about to tell you, and I really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> need you with me right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wynonna was silent, her eyes fearful as she searched Waverly’s. She brought her hip flask back to her lips, then seemed to reconsider, bringing it below her nose and sniffing it cautiously.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to spend more time sober. Or way drunker." Wynonna mumbled, just loud enough for Waverly to hear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly watched, her heart in her throat as Wynonna scraped her chair back and stood, walking slowly to the sink and began to pour the contents of the hip flask away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t…" Waverly warned. She couldn’t help but smile, despite her fear and her desperation. "You’re gonna need that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly clenched her fist, suppressing a chuckle as the hip flask refilled and Wynonna dropped it in the sink, recoiling as though it had burned her. She rested her hands either side of the sink, and stared down at it. The silence hummed in Waverly’s ears for a long minute more, before finally, her sister turned slowly back to face her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Wynonna whispered, her tone still hesitant. She walked tentatively back to the table and sat down beside Waverly, eyeing her softer now but still somewhat warily. “Okay. I’m with you. Start from the beginning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly took a shaky breath, and carefully launched into her explanation. She started from the beginning; the dreams, the coffee shop, the window, the tyre, the archives, Jeremy, the council…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wynonna listened intently, her focus only waning as she tried desperately to discover if she had power of her own. Waverly bit back a groan of amused frustration as she watched her sister try to engage every potential trigger; wriggling her eyebrows, clenching her fists, tugging on her earlobes, making finger guns… it was becoming increasingly obvious that Wynonna Earp did not have power in her veins, and Waverly couldn’t help but feel remorse over her sister’s dejected expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So at least we know it's not </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> our parents then." Wynonna shrugged, a small wistful smile pulling at her cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly’s stomach dropped. She had been dreading this part, and she didn't even know where to start to explain to her sister what she herself didn't have the answers to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"About that…" Waverly swallowed, reaching in her pocket to retrieve the letter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watched as Wynonna’s wide eyes scanned the page, their colours changing from shock, to confusion, to fear, to fury.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. No, there’s no way, Babygirl. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullshit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Daddy died years ago and you know it. They're too late.” Wynonna threw the letter down onto the table, her voice hardened with rage but Waverly could hear the tremble of cold fear running beneath it. “Absolutely not. I’m not letting this happen. Haught isn’t letting this happen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are not letting this happen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if he didn't?" Waverly whispered, tears filling her eyes as she let the fear that had consumed her all day finally break what was left of her composure. She dropped her gaze, focusing on her hands, unable to meet her sister’s eyes. "What if my Dad didn't die years ago?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Waverly, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>watched </span>
  </em>
  <span>it happen…" Wynonna frowned, her tone firm and assured as she leaned forward to take Waverly’s hands in her own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But what if </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dad… didn't?" Waverly lifted her eyes, forcing herself to watch as the realisation of what she was saying flooded into Wynonna’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wave… no.” Wynonna shook her head, bringing a hand up to cup Waverly’s cheek, her eyes soft as she held her sister’s gaze. “You are an Earp. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>you're an Earp, we're blood, Babygirl!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I-I need to know for sure, Wy." Waverly spoke softly, almost apologetic as she watched the hurt and the concern flash through her sister’s eyes. "I need to see Mama.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wave…” Wynonna breathed, her eyes creasing in concern. “Are-are you sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly nodded, squeezing her sister’s hands gently. Neither sister had seen their mother in years, and she knew that the memories haunted them both. Mama’s deterioration had impacted Wynonna badly, and when she had been taken away and Ward had turned his aggressions to his children, things had gotten dark for the middle Earp. Both sisters had tried to visit their mother several times in the earlier days, but she had always grown hysterical and aggressive, until the staff had told them she had asked for them not to return. Waverly knew that what she was about to ask would be difficult for Wynonna, but she wasn’t sure she could face this without her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you take me, Wy? Please?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Wynonna’s eyes flashed with fear, and her fingers shook slightly beneath Waverly’s, but she nodded resolutely, not a moment’s hesitation in her agreement. “We'll go this weekend.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂       </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly waved cheerily at Sheriff Nedley as she passed through the precinct, a cooler bag over her arm and a hot flask in her hand. She had been later than usual finishing work today, much as she had every day this week, having buried her mind in her research in an effort to shut out all thoughts of the letter and of Domhan Draiocht. She knew she needed to see Mama to get her answers, and she couldn’t do that until the coming weekend, and so she had shoved the letter in a drawer, praying that it would stay out of sight and out of mind until she was ready to figure out what she needed to do to put up a damn good fight. Instead, she had filled her days with work, and her evenings with Wynonna or with Jeremy. Nicole had been on the late shifts all week, and Waverly had made a habit of visiting her after her own office hours, with a snack and a drink in hand. The moments were fleeting; Nicole’s breaks never lasting long, and there always being other officers around. It was worth it though, for a few minutes of those warm mocha eyes bearing into her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned into the open doorway of the back room in which Wynonna and Nicole could always be found, breaking into a beaming grin as her eyes landed on the redhead, deep in thought as she studied the computer screen in front of her. Nicole sat hunched forwards, her elbow resting on the desk. Her shirt was unbuttoned even lower than usual, and she rubbed absently at the muscles in her neck. Waverly smirked as she scanned the room, finding Nicole to be alone. She stepped forward quietly, closing the door gently behind her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole started as the sound of the door pulled her from her trance, but she grinned as her gaze landed on the brunette, and her eyes softened to honey, in the way they always seemed to whenever she looked at Waverly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, four days in a row?” Nicole’s eyes sparkled, and she pushed her chair back from the desk, allowing Waverly the space to come closer. “I have to say, this has fast become my favourite part of the day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmmm, me too." Waverly murmured, biting her lip through a smirk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She placed the flask and cool bag on the desk and glanced around quickly, checking they were still alone, before pushing Nicole’s legs apart and stepping between them, leaning down to kiss her; briefly but hotly. She pulled back, her gaze fixed on Nicole’s lips as they chased her own, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Behave yourself, Officer, you're at work." Waverly whispered, smirking at the chuckle she elicited from the redhead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are a tease, and I'm real tired of these late shifts.” Nicole grumbled, rolling her eyes, though her playful smile still graced her lips. "I want to take you on another date."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly bit back a gasp as Nicole’s hands wrapped around the backs of her thighs, and tugged her closer, her hips pressing lightly against the officer's stomach. She smirked, scanning the room once more before kissing her again; slower this time, and longer, and deeper. She moaned softly as Nicole’s tongue swiped over her own, and pulled back, clenching her thighs together in an effort to stem the immediate desire that the redhead’s kiss stirred in her centre. She grinned, the heat surging heavier in her veins as she took in Nicole's darkened eyes and her flushed cheeks, telling her she wasn't the only one feeling a little flustered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re off tomorrow, right?" Waverly husked, blushing a little at the audible gravel of arousal in her voice. "You want to do something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned down to rest her hands on Nicole’s knees, holding her gaze with a smirk as she ran them slowly up the redhead’s thighs, hearing her breath hitch hard as she reached the tops, and squeezed firmly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything you want, Waverly.” Nicole’s voice was just as hoarse, and her eyes hooded slightly as she flicked them between Waverly’s gaze, her lips, and the hands that teased her thighs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Officer Haught.” Waverly lilted, grinning devilishly as she slipped her hands up to rest on Nicole’s duty belt, pressing her fingertips behind the leather and tugging firmly. “Do not offer me </span>
  <em>
    <span>'anything' </span>
  </em>
  <span>unless you’re prepared to deliver.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole’s eyes flashed dark, and Waverly's stomach dropped instantly at the fire behind them. Her hands flew to Waverly’s wrists, halting her movement with a grip </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> firm enough for the touch to shoot through Waverly’s core. Then she tugged as she stood, pulling the brunette's front flush against her own and pushing back, until Waverly’s breath caught as she found herself pinned against the firm wood of the edge of the desk, Nicole’s body holding her in place. The officer leaned down, planting a soft kiss just below Waverly’s ear, her hot breath raising goosebumps over the brunette’s skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t underestimate me, Earp.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The low, breathy murmur vibrated over the shell of Waverly’s ear and she shuddered, straining half-heartedly against the restraints of Nicole’s hands on her wrists. Waverly choked back a moan as the redhead bit down gently on her earlobe, before pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. The dark, searing heat in Nicole’s mocha eyes burned through Waverly’s veins, and yet somehow there was still something so soft flickering behind it, and something so tender still in her touch that Waverly felt nothing but safe. Nothing but respected. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So</span>
  </em>
  <span> damn turned on, and somehow still so in control despite the position she found herself in. She swallowed thickly. How did this woman manage to go from such soft heart eyes to such burning fire in mere seconds?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned forward, her mind clouding with lust as she tried to claim Nicole’s lips with her own, almost growling in frustration as the redhead pulled back just out of reach, an infuriatingly smug smirk on her lips. She wriggled her wrists, Nicole pressing firmer as she pinned them back on the desk behind them. Nicole brushed her lips over Waverly’s, kissing her firmly before pulling back once more, chuckling as the brunette chased her. Just as Waverly opened her mouth to chastise her, the redhead slipped her tongue over the brunette’s lip and rolled her hips firmly, the contact sending a surge of pleasure straight to Waverly's clit. She gasped, then whimpered as Nicole pulled away yet again. She balled her fists in frustration, desperate to touch the officer, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to twist her hands in red locks and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>tug</span>
  </em>
  <span>…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nicole hissed, her head tilting back slightly, her jaw dropping open. She snapped her head back up, wild eyes boring into Waverly with a blackened mix of shock, arousal, and intrigue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Oh fuck fuck fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Waverly froze, her heart pounding. She hadn’t thought, not</span>
  <em>
    <span> at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It had been so easy to use her power that she hadn’t thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span> about learning to control it. Clench your fist, imagine what you want, and you get it! It had never occurred to her that there would be times when that was absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> something that she wanted to happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly held her breath, willing her mind to find something - </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>- to say to explain or to bury the situation, and her pulse raced as she watched Nicole’s face. The officer had halted her movements, but she hadn’t moved away, her breath falling heavily, and her eyes still studying Waverly’s. They were still dark, still fiery, and she looked almost predatory, but there was something else in the way they flickered that hadn’t been there before. Trepidation?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nicole, I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Haught </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn,</span>
  </em>
  <span> my eyes!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wynonna’s voice pierced the room as she barrelled through the doorway, and Nicole swiftly shot back, her hand flying up to rub at the back of her neck as she turned to face her colleague. Waverly blushed deeply, her eyes dropping to the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span> Officer? At </span>
  <em>
    <span>work</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" Wynonna smirked, tutting as she shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly could feel her blush growing deeper, the heat spreading over her chest and her neck. She could feel Nicole’s curious eyes still burning into her, and combined with Wynonna’s teasing jibes and smug smirk, the embarrassment was starting to feel too much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I have to go!” Waverly stammered, pushing past Nicole, unable to meet her eyes as she rushed towards the door. “I’m late, promised Jeremy we’d do a gay movie night, and you know how he gets…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I literally don’t, who is Jeremy?” Wynonna screwed her face up, raising a quizzical eyebrow in Waverly’s direction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wave…” Nicole tried, her voice soft, the hint of confused anxiety riding beneath it making Waverly feel guilty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll see you tomorrow, baby okay?” She forced herself to meet Nicole’s anxious eyes, trying to convey her apology in her own expression as she backed into the doorway. “I’ll call you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Baby</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Wynonna's mocking tone and her gag followed Waverly as she slipped through the door and out into the hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bye…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole’s muffled voice carried clear signs of confusion and rejection, and Waverly almost stopped in her tracks, but her embarrassment was still too overpowering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> Haught?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wynonna's voice faded as Waverly reached the end of the corridor and rounded the corner, rushing from the station. She’d text Nicole later once she'd calmed down. Maybe she could claim ignorance? Turn it into a game, and tease Nicole for wanting her so badly she was feeling things that weren't happening? Waverly sighed, the bitter sting of the evening air cooling her overheated cheeks. She would need a bottle of whiskey for this movie night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wynonna, are you nearly done?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly called loudly, drumming her fingers on the kitchen table. Her impatience was growing stronger as she waited anxiously for Wynonna to finish getting ready to leave, and to come downstairs. Somehow she had been able to survive the week, burying her thoughts and her fears in her work and the people around her, but now that the day had arrived for her to visit Mama, she couldn’t hold it back anymore and her mind was swimming, her whole body on edge. She pulled her phone from her pocket, typing a flirty text message to Nicole, needing something to distract her mind and to keep her fidgety fingers busy. The officer hadn’t mentioned anything about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>incident</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the police station since, even after a heavy make out session on their date, with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> more tugging of those red locks. Waverly couldn’t help but feel slightly confused, despite the overwhelming relief. She knew Nicole had noticed something untoward, but perhaps she had reflected and talked herself into believing that she had imagined it in the heat of the moment - much like Waverly had when she had first experienced it in the coffee shop, and the car window. She pressed send, smirking as she imagined Nicole’s dimpled grin when she read the words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wy?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Waverly called again, rolling her eyes as she heard the slamming of the bathroom door, and her sister’s muffled reply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly snapped her head to the hallway, frowning as a short burst of rhythmic knocking sounded from the front door. No-one ever knocked. Their friends just entered, and deliveries usually used the doorbell. She pushed back from the table and scurried down the hallway to answer. She forced her usual, polite smile across her face as she pulled back the door, expecting one of the many online orders she frequently forgot she’d placed. Her smile faltered slightly as she took in the two men who stood before her, their stance and their attire seeming entirely out of place on the homestead’s porch. Waverly couldn’t stop her eyes from roaming the heavy fur coat and bleached blonde, slicked back mohican of the man closest to her, or the tweed three-piece suit, thick moustache and cowboy hat of the gentleman who stood behind him. She frowned as the latter stubbed a cigar out on the porch railing, before stepping in beside his companion, blue eyes sparkling as he turned them to her own. She rolled her eyes. Trust Wynonna to have visitors just as they were leaving. Presumably. They looked like her crowd. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wynonna’s just upstairs,” Waverly honeyed her voice, fighting to keep her agitation at bay. “But we’re actually just getting ready to go out, is she expecting you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Waverly…” The man with the fur coat stepped forward, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> too far into Waverly’s personal space. His eyes bore into hers, somehow both intense and somewhat vacant at once. “We have come to speak with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With me?” Waverly’s stomach dropped. There was something in those eyes, and something felt charged in the air around them, making her feel more on edge than she had all morning. “Wh-what do you want with…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man extended his hand, and Waverly’s eyes dropped to the movement. His skin was pale, the rise of the sleeve of the fur coat as he moved revealing a tattoo etched across the back of his wrist. Waverly’s blood ran cold, her heart stopping in her chest as she traced her eyes over the thick black lines of the shape in the ink. A circle of woven roots, that almost mirrored the Celtic symbols in Waverly’s history books, if not for the replacement of curves with angular lines that made it look colder somehow. A familiar symbol embedded in Waverly’s mind in a way that shot ice through her veins.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Waverly stumbled backwards in an effort to get away, her mind blanking in her cold panic. “Ar-are you hunters? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wynonna!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly heard the fear in her own voice as she screamed for her sister, her heart pounding as Wynonna skidded into the hallway only moments later, her socks half on and her gun in her hand, already cocked and raised towards the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hunters</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Goodness, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The man stepped forward, his hands held out before him in surrender. “My apologies ma’am, please let me make my acquaintance. My name is Bobo Del Ray, and this here is John Henry Holliday." Bobo leaned forwards, bowing elaborately, though keeping his eyes trained on Waverly’s face. John Henry tilted the rim of his hat, his moustache twitching as he smirked in greeting. "We come from the Witches Council."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Del Rey? Holliday? The </span>
  <em>
    <span>council?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Waverly wasn’t sure what she had expected of the witches council, but she was fairly certain this wasn’t it. And if the council were here to see her, then...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stumbled back once again as Bobo moved to step closer, offering his hand once more. The barrel of Wynonna’s gun followed him as he moved, and Waverly could feel her sister stiffen as he smirked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You touch one hair on her head and I will send your genie ass back to Neverland faster than you can say Abracadabra,” Wynonna growled, her finger resting precariously on the gun’s trigger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We just wish to talk, Miss Earp.” John Henry addressed Wynonna specifically as he stepped forward, his low southern drawl and the accompanying tip of his hat somehow less threatening than the forced tone of Bobo Del Rey. “May we come in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly felt Wynonna’s eyes shift to her, the gun still poised perfectly. She didn't need to say it, but she was fairly certain it would be useless to her if the time came when it was needed anyway. If these men were who they said they were, and not hunters, then they had power. </span>
  <em>
    <span>High</span>
  </em>
  <span> power. Del Rey. Holliday. Original families. And in that case, she had a rather sinking suspicion that Mr Holliday's trigger may well be the tip of that hat, and she figured it was as likely as anything that the chamber of Wynonna’s gun was now empty. Or full of blanks. They were vulnerable, and she figured they were safer to hear the men out than they were to challenge them. She nodded, stepping back to allow the men into the house, keeping close to Wynonna’s side. The gun may be useless, but her sister still made her feel safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is there somewhere, perhaps, that we can sit?" John gestured towards the door that led through to the living room, and Wynonna moved instinctively to block it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't push it, Sundance Kid." Wynonna turned the barrel onto John, whose moustache twitched slightly in an amused appreciation. "What do you want with my sister?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It has come to our attention that you have not responded to our mail, Waverly.” Bobo moved into Waverly’s space, running his fingers along the wall of the hallway as he spoke, his head tilting slightly as he observed the brunette.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly’s heart sank. She had known they would chase her for her response, but she had fully expected she would get the chance to speak with Mama before they did. Were they going to take her now? Were they even who they said they were? She still wasn’t convinced they weren’t hunters. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That tattoo...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I can’t…” She could feel the cold flood of fear creeping up through her chest again, and she stuttered slightly as she pressed herself closer into Wynonna’s side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, Waverly…” Bobo stepped back. His voice was softer suddenly, and his eyes flashed with something that would almost have resembled regret, had they not been so glazed. So cold. “I don’t make the rules. I wish I had the authority to tell you what you want to hear, but I am merely the messenger.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me whose place I’m taking.” Waverly’s voice trembled as she spoke, but she stood tall, forcing herself to step out from Wynonna’s protective stance. If this truly was the council, then they may have answers. She had power, she was strong. She could face this. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to face this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your father’s, of course.” John frowned as he spoke, removing his hat for the first time and holding it close to his chest. A mark of respect. Sympathy. Waverly shuddered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My father has been dead for 15 years.” She fixed her gaze on Bobo’s, focusing everything she had on keeping her voice steely and emotionless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No." Bobo frowned, his head tilting even further to the side, blue eyes glazing and flickering, never still. "He’s been dead for two weeks...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Firstly, whatever you're taking, share the love," Wynonna quirked an eyebrow at Bobo as she interrupted, and Waverly didn't miss the amused twitch of John's moustache. "And secondly, you’ve really fucked up here. Ward Earp was her father, and he sure as all hell died fifteen years ago." Wynonna’s eyes flashed, a flicker of hurt breaking through the steel in her gaze and her voice. "I know. I saw him die.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly’s eyes widened and her stomach dropped as she flicked her gaze between the two men, watching as John furrowed his brows, his eyes dropping to the floor, and Bobo laughed, shaking his head in bewilderment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Earp</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobo’s scoff was like a knife. She'd been right. She had been lied to all of her life. Her eyes fell to the floor as her chest tightened, her breath falling shorter. She winced, fighting the urge to recoil as Bobo stepped up close, hooking his finger below her chin to bring her gaze up to his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Babygirl." He smiled, the ice in his eyes stopping the expression from holding any warmth, and Waverly felt her blood run cold at the use of the familiar pet name. "You, my sweet angel, are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Levine.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Levine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Levine?</span>
  </em>
  <span> The name of the missing man? Original family, high power, man invading her fucking dreams, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Levine</span>
  </em>
  <span>? This wasn’t possible. It didn't make sense. And yet... Waverly swallowed thickly, her mind racing at a dizzying speed. And yet, it was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing that made sense. She steeled herself and clenched her fist, her power pushing Bobo’s hand away from her face. If they were right, she was as powerful as they were, and she was determined not to let them intimidate her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who is my father?” Waverly stepped forward, the movement forcing Bobo to take a step backwards, and he chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are the only child of Julian Levine," John spoke up, his gentle tone breaking the tense charge between Waverly and Bobo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly turned to face him, stepping slowly towards him as she spoke. She didn't trust either of them, but something in the shine of boyish blue eyes, and in the way John spoke was more grounding. More sympathetic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where is he?” Her voice was soft, but the demand was cold and clear behind it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My sweet child, like Mr Del Rey mentioned, he… he passed." John removed his hat once more, his eyes flicking briefly to Bobo before they searched her own intensely. "You must have… </span>
  <em>
    <span>heard</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly frowned. There was something behind his eyes, something in those words...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we’ve heard enough of this," Wynonna snapped, pushing her way between Waverly and John. She pointed the gun at the latter's crotch, nodding her head towards the door. "Get out of my house.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John nodded, his eyes fixed on Waverly’s for just a moment longer, before he stepped back, gesturing to Bobo to finish what he had come to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In light of recent understandings, I will give you an extension.” Bobo flicked his wrist, his open palm swirling before his chest. An envelope appeared between his fingers, and he handed it to Waverly. “You have one week to make your goodbyes, and then you must come to Domhan Draiocht.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>week?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Waverly’s knees weakened, and nausea crashed through her at the words. A week. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One</span>
  </em>
  <span> week.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or what?” Wynonna snarled, her arm moving instinctively to wrap around the front of Waverly’s shoulders, holding her back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We must have a representative from every witching family.” Bobo spoke calmly, his voice emotionless, though a cold smirk crossed his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>or what?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wynonna snarled, pushing the barrel of her gun against Bobo's stomach, eliciting an icy chuckle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If she wishes to remain </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, then we cannot have her representing the witching world.” Bobo shrugged, the intensity in his eyes betraying the nonchalant movement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Answer the fucking question, Hermione Danger, stop being such a pretentious fu…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll take my powers.” Waverly whispered, but her words were still enough to cut Wynonna off. She could feel her chest growing heavy and her mind growing numb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence was deafening. Wynonna’s gun arm dropped to her side, and Waverly dragged her eyes up to meet her sister’s. She had expected fear, or pain, or anxiety. But she had not expected the red hot fury that blazed behind them, nor the blood curdling low growl of her voice as she spoke, her words spitting fire at both men as they backed towards the porch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Get. The fuck. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Out.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither spoke, though Bobo smirked and John awkwardly avoided Wynonna’s gaze, nodding his head in a parting greeting to Waverly. As they reached the porch, Bobo turned to face the brunette, keeping distance between them this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have real power, Waverly. We could use you. Please think this through carefully." He smirked, waving his index finger in her direction. "You </span>
  <em>
    <span>belong</span>
  </em>
  <span> with </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Wynonna finally closed the door behind them, Waverly sank back against the wall, letting her body slide to the floor. She was exhausted. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. Julian Levine. J.Levine. Was she really dreaming of her father? If so, this meant she really did have to go, and that wasn’t something she could even begin to comprehend. She still wasn’t sure she trusted that Bobo was really a council leader. The tattoo on his wrist screamed hunter to Waverly, but he had demonstrated power. Jeremy had said hunters didn't have power, other than that to detect witches. He had also said the symbol was an old witching symbol, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> it that unusual? But then the hunters had been using it for years, it seemed like something that witches wouldn't use anymore. And something had felt off, in the way Bobo had acted, and had spoken. And in John's eyes…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wy, did you see that guy's tattoo? On his wrist, under the coat?" Waverly's voice shook as she spoke, and she was grateful when her sister moved to sit on the floor beside her, finding comfort in her proximity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can't say I looked that closely." Wynonna screwed her face, shuddering slightly. "Why?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It just looked a lot like the symbol the hunters mark on the bodies of the people in your ca…" Waverly winced as she trailed off, Wynonna’s wide eyes boring into her. She hadn’t mentioned this bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Babygirl..." Wynonna’s voice was low, her anger still clear, but traces of fear running through it now that they were alone again. "You wanna start by explaining to me what the fucking hell a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunter</span>
  </em>
  <span> is?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Control</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter and the next one were initially intended to be one, but it got insanely long. So I apologise in advance for the lack of Wayhaught in this one, but you get an entire chapter of it in 8 ;) I promise it'll be worth the wait...</p><p>Thank you as always for your comments! :)</p><p>This chapter does have some reference to altered mental states and mental ill health.  Just as a trigger warning.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Waverly watched from the window as Wynonna wound the jeep through the narrow roads that led to the high security hospital. The familiar tree lined lanes that wove through the forest always felt so bittersweet; such beauty hiding such darkness. Wynonna had been quiet, and whilst Waverly hadn't expected any different, it hadn't helped to calm her own nerves. She could feel her palms starting to prickle with sweat as the jeep turned in through the high, brick lined gate, and her pulse pounded heavy in her ears as Wynonna stated their identity and purpose to the guard. She took a deep breath, leaning her head against the rest and closing her eyes for a moment as Wynonna pulled in to park, opening them only as the engine juddered to a stop.</p><p>“Do you want me to come in with you?"</p><p>Wynonna’s voice was steady, but Waverly could see the hesitation in her eyes and she felt another pang of guilt for putting her sister through this. Deep down she knew she wanted her sister with her. That was why she had asked her to come, but the pain in Wynonna's eyes was too raw, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask it of her.</p><p>“You can wait here." She smiled reassuringly, honeying her voice in an effort to disguise the untruth. "I think I need to do this alone.”</p><p>She leaned forward to give her sister a kiss on the cheek, and clenched her fist to produce a hot flask of coffee, grinning at Wynonna’s grateful smile.</p><p>The hospital always smelled. It was never the harsh, clinical smell that bothered her, but there was something else that reminded her of the dark days of her childhood and it overwhelmed her as soon as she entered. She swallowed thickly, bile rising in her throat as it hit her. The institution itself was bright and airy and well decorated, but the air still felt thick with fear and pain and after all these years it still suffocated Waverly. She shuddered, clenching her fist and numbing the smell as she approached the reception desk.</p><p>“I’m Waverly Earp, here to see Michelle Gibson.”</p><p>It had been a long time since she had been asked not to come back, and she steeled herself, preparing for the possibility that she might be turned away. She breathed a sigh of relief as the receptionist nodded, pushing a guest book and a pen over the counter for Waverly to check in, whilst she called a nurse to assist. </p><p>Waverly followed the nurse as he led her through the lobby, past the communal lounges, and into the hallways that held the patient rooms. To the left, down the hall and three doors to the right. Like it always had been.</p><p>The room was the same. The pastel green on the walls that the doctors had said were meant to be calming, and the now balding plush, velvet armchair nestled in the corner of the bay window that looked out onto the snow blanket of the hospital grounds. The untouched burnt orange mug of lukewarm tea that sat on the roll-to table before it. The small single bed with the same patched blanket of blues and greens, running alongside the wall. Nothing had changed in over 15 years. </p><p>Her mother looked drawn. Her pale skin drew tight over her bones, and though her hazel eyes fixed on Waverly as she entered, they didn’t seem to see her. She held her fingers to the sides of her face, tilting her head as she studied Waverly, unseeing.</p><p>“Mama…” Waverly whispered. She wasn't sure whether she even intended for Michelle to hear her; the word falling in a breathy plea for the woman she loved to be there somewhere. </p><p>Michelle shifted in her seat, her eyes flickering as Waverly spoke. She didn't speak, but she lowered her hands, her head lifting as she sat upright. Her eyes were still empty, but they seemed less glazed, and she seemed to study Waverly with more purpose.</p><p>“Mama, it’s me." She spoke quietly, trying desperately to hide the break in her voice. "It’s Waverly."</p><p>“<em> Waverly </em>.” Michelle repeated, her voice hoarse with unuse. The gravel was thick and broken, like she hadn’t spoken in years. </p><p>Waverly took a step towards the battered armchair in which her mama sat. She smiled softly, reaching a tentative hand out towards Michelle's arm. She started, pulling back instantly as her mama recoiled, her glazed eyes shooting to the door.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be here, Waverly.” </p><p>There was something in the way Michelle said her name that made Waverly’s teeth itch. Something <em> almost </em> hostile, but there was fear beneath it.</p><p>“I-I know, I’m sorry Mama, I just…I need to know, need - need to ask you.” </p><p>Waverly fumbled for her words, pain, grief and desperation easing their way into her voice. She had been here before. In a matter of minutes, Mama would become distressed, and the nurses would be in to ask her to leave. She knew it was selfish, and maybe even fruitless to push, but she didn't think her heart could take leaving here without her answers. </p><p>“Is…was…” She swallowed thickly, lowering herself down to Michelle's eye level, keeping the roll-to table between them. “Is Ward Earp my father?”</p><p>Michelle froze, her glassy eyes fixed on Waverly’s for a long moment. Her face was expressionless, and Waverly’s heart sank as she assumed she had retreated. Until she leaned forward, her eyes almost trembling as they flicked rapidly around the room, searching for something Waverly couldn’t understand. Michelle shifted to the edge of her seat, her voice hard and low, falling in harsh whispers.</p><p>“What... what has made you ask this, Waverly?”</p><p>Waverly flashed her eyes to the nurse, standing in the doorway of the room. He flicked mindlessly through his phone, but she knew he was trained to listen out for any signs of threat to either patient or visitor, and there was no rational way that she could say what she needed to say without ending up in a testing clinic herself. With shaking fingers she changed tact, reaching into her pocket for the frayed edges of the clip she still carried with her.</p><p>“Mama, who is this man?” Waverly placed the clip on the table between them, waiting for Michelle's gaze to follow the movement before sliding it closer to her.</p><p>Michelle's glazed eyes softened, light flickering briefly behind them as she ran her drawn fingers gently over the handsome face of J.Levine. </p><p>“<em> Julian… </em>”</p><p>“My father?” Waverly whispered, her eyes fixed on the emotion crossing her mother's face for the first time in years. Michelle knew the name. Knew the face. <em> Felt </em> something. </p><p>Waverly held her breath as her mother fell silent, her eyes darkening, the light behind them dim once more as she stared at the photo. The fingers that traced Julian's face began to tremble, and they moved quickly back to the side of Michelle's face, scratching lightly in a repetitive movement. </p><p>“Mama, have you…” Waverly glanced back to the nurse, leaning forwards slightly as she found him still engrossed in his phone. “Have you heard of Domhan Draiocht?”</p><p>Waverly jumped back as Michelle screamed, the blood curdling sound piercing through her skin like needles of ice. The table was flipped towards her, with a force that sent the long cold mug of tea flying into the wall behind Waverly, smashing into pieces over the wooden floor, and the murky brown rug that covered it. Michelle's hands returned to her face, clawing at her cheeks as she shouted words that Waverly couldn’t decipher.</p><p>The nurse at the doorway had jumped to action, calling for colleagues to assist, and Waverly knew her time was up. Tears streamed down her face as she watched her mother's distress play out on her face and in her screams. She <em> knew </em>. </p><p>“They’re telling me I have to take his place, Mama, and I’m having these dreams, and…” Waverly’s words fell fast, frantic, her hands reaching for Michelle's as she tried to bring her mother back to her, at least just a moment longer. </p><p>“<em> No </em> ! Nononono not dead, no <em> please </em> , not dead. <em> Julian </em> !" Michelle sobbed, her eyes boring into Waverly’s, glazed but not unseeing as she scratched and clawed at the arms of the chair. "Not dreams. Not <em> dreams. Julian </em>.” </p><p>Waverly jumped back, her heart in her throat as the nurses rushed in to assist Michelle. She felt a hand close over her forearm, tearing her gaze from the haunted fear in her mother's eyes to find the nurse who had led her in, urging her to leave. She nodded sadly, throwing her Mama one more sorrowful look before she turned, the sobs and screams haunting her as she picked her way slowly back along the hallway.</p><p>
  <em> “Take it away. They’ll take it away!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂        ꧁꧂        ꧁꧂</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em> The derelict roads are wider here, the snow piled high on either side. He's running faster than he usually does, the grit crunching heavy beneath his feet. She feels more alert tonight. Like she can almost feel the bite of the icy air, and smell the pine of the nearby mountains. She turns her head, searching the world around her for signs of familiarity, but still the roads look both like home and like the unknown. She takes a step. That's never happened. She's never made a physical movement before, but she feels more present. </em> </p><p>
  <em> “Talk to me. Tell me, Babygirl. I’ll find you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Babygirl. Her father. She studies the lines in his face, and the shape of his jaw and the light in his eyes, and she wonders how she couldn’t see it before. Julian reaches his hand out as he nears her, and she opens her mouth to call to him. </em>
</p><p>"Dad…"</p><p>The word fell from Waverly’s lips into the hush of the dim morning light seeping through the cracks in her bedroom curtains. She opened her eyes wearily, clutching at the pillow behind her head, needing the grounding of something familiar. She didn't understand, and the more answers she got, the less her world made sense to her anymore. <em> Not dreams </em> , her mother had said. Not dreams, so <em> what? </em>And why did their hazy messages come only as she lay asleep. And why couldn’t she tell him. She could see her father, and hear him, and she’d been able to move towards him but why couldn't she speak? </p><p>She sighed, pushing herself up from the warmth of her blankets, and dragging herself towards the bathroom. She had a brunch date with Jeremy at the homestead, and a dinner date at Nicole's today, and god knows she needed both.</p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂        ꧁꧂        ꧁꧂</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Waverly watched in distracted amusement as Jeremy squirted precise, dime sized blobs of ketchup beside each of his separate food types. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and Waverly chuckled softly as she waited for his full attention to return. She had filled him in on Bobo’s visit, and on the trip to the hospital, and she needed now to hear what he had to say on the dreams. She took a deep breath as Jeremy finally pushed a forkful of food into his mouth and turned his eyes back to her own, waiting patiently.</p><p>“I’ve been having these - these dreams, Jer," Waverly began, swirling her own food around her plate nervously. “I see this… this <em> man. </em> This Julian. My father. He’s trying to tell me something, and I just can’t piece it together.”</p><p>"Did the books not…" Jeremy spoke through his mouthful, earning himself a frown and a raised eyebrow from Waverly. He swallowed, holding his hands up in apology. "Did the books not tell you anything?"</p><p>“Not really, but Mama said they <em> weren’t </em> dreams. I-I think I believe her." Waverly shrugged. "I think this might be power.</p><p>“But Waverly, no witch can do this." Jeremy waved his fork around as he spoke, his voice once again muffled by his mouthful of food. "No witch can influence someone’s thoughts or feelings, it’s written in stone.”</p><p>“Then <em> what </em> is happening, Jeremy?” Waverly threw her hands up in frustration, feeling her voice harden as her irritation started to surface. She just wanted just <em> one </em> clear answer. Just one thing to make some fucking sense in all of this.</p><p>Jeremy swallowed slowly, placing his knife and fork gently down on the table before him. He was silent for a moment, his eyebrows drawn together and his eyes dropped to his plate as he thought, his hands rubbing at his temples.</p><p>“Julian Levine.” Jeremy muttered, his hands dropping to pick at the crusts of toast on his plate. "It is an original family…" He flicked his eyes back to Waverly’s, his shoulders lifting in a shrug and his lips curling into a soft smile. "Wave, you <em> are </em>pretty damn powerful.”</p><p>"The <em> crests, </em> " Waverly whispered, her stomach flipping as she remembered Jeremy’s words that very first day. She hadn’t remembered. Hadn’t <em> thought. </em> “I-I have a crest? A <em> super power? </em>”</p><p>“Yeah." Jeremy’s voice was hushed, though his eyes shone with visible awe and excitement, and Waverly couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. "We have no easy way to find out what it is, but… maybe there’s something in this? In these dreams? Dude, if this is power then maybe you can learn to control it?”</p><p>“I thought you said I didn’t need to learn anything?" Waverly clenched her fist, willing herself to see the dreams in her mind, groaning in frustration when for the first time since her 21st birthday, nothing happened. She fought back the whine that threatened to bury itself in her voice as she continued. "You said it ‘surges under my skin’, I ‘just have to want to use it.’”</p><p>“But that was power, this is <em> power </em> power.” Jeremy shook his head, his eyes apologetic. “Crests are a whole different ball game, Wave, and I know <em> nothing </em> about them."</p><p>“So I just need to figure out how to work on it!” Waverly leaned forwards, her elbows resting on the table, her voice steely and determined.</p><p>She was a researcher, and a quick scholar, and she just needed to treat this in the same way she treated any of her studies. What did she know already? Really just that the power came to her in dreams. So could she force the dreams?</p><p>“Maybe I need to start by trying to reach a dreamlike state without being asleep?” Waverly pulled her phone from her back pocket, pulling up the search application and typing a few words into the bar.</p><p>“Like meditating?” Jeremy’s eyes widened with excitement, and he shuffled his chair around the table, moving closer to Waverly to watch her phone over her shoulder. </p><p>“What have I got to lose?” Waverly shrugged, grinning as she pulled up a video titled '<em> A Beginner's Guide to Meditation. </em>'</p><p>“There’s just…" Jeremy shook his head, his eyes closing for a moment, before he pulled his own phone from his pocket and typed away onto the screen. "Your father, Julian. He-he died, right? Is he talking to you from the afterlife? Are you some kind of medium?”</p><p>"But he died weeks ago. I've been having these dreams all my life." Waverly ran her hands through her hair. There wasn't a lot about this that made much sense, but she was damn determined that she would crack this. Her stomach flipped in cold anticipation, sweat prickling along her spine as a dark thought crossed her mind. “He's always been running. From what? The hunters? Did my father get killed by hunters, Jer? Is he trying to warn me?”</p><p>“I think only you can find the answer to that question, Wave.” Jeremy tapped his finger on the side of Waverly’s phone, and nudged her gently with his elbow. "And this is where you start."</p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂        ꧁꧂        ꧁꧂</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Waverly lit the last of the candles and incense sticks laid around the surfaces of her bedroom. She rolled her yoga mat onto the floor and settled herself in the centre, assuming the pose her instruction video had advised her to take. She closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply, trying her hardest to follow the slow, elongated pattern of the voice on the screen. </p><p>The blast of Wynonna’s hairdryer, interspersed with tuneless singing and the clattering of drawers and cupboards pulled her back, and she shook her head, clenching her fist to block out the sound.</p><p>Waverly was nervous. Her palms prickled with sweat, and she knew she had no hope of reaching her dreamlike state while her fingers trembled and her heart pounded. She needed to let go. She shook her limbs out, tilting her head from side to side in an effort to stretch out the muscles in her neck. She took a deep breath and resumed her pose, inhaling through her nose, and out through her mouth, feeling her mind and her body relax with the steady flow of incense filled air. She tried to clear her mind of everything but the man she needed to see.</p><p>
  <em> His face was blurred, the sandy blonde the only distinguishable feature, but she would recognise the figure running towards her anywhere. The cloudy grey around him was hazier than it had been in weeks, and his muffled voice was unintelligible. But he was there. She could see him. She tried to focus; tried to clear the fog from her vision, but she could feel the lines blurring further as the image slipped from her grip. </em>
</p><p>The room spun a little as Waverly opened her eyes, and she felt a wave of dizzying nausea that was over as quickly as it had come. She had done it. The image was useless to her like this; hazy and indecipherable, but she had seen him. Her Mama had been right. <em> Not dreams </em>. Her heart pounded, and she stood quickly, pacing the room in an effort to shake the nervous excitement and anticipation that flooded her body. She needed to stay calm. This needed work, she needed to understand what she could do.</p><p>She resumed her pose, allowing the breathing pattern to relax her, her mind focused on her father's face, and the sound of the voice that she hears in her dreams. The incense and the candles around Waverly burned low, as she focused everything she had on opening her mind to the images that had haunted her nights all her life.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Uprising</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's getting pretty smutty in here tonight! If that's not your scene, then anything between "You are in so much trouble, Waverly Earp." and the next set of break icons is probably not for you ;)</p>
<p>If it is your scene, then maybe don't read this at work.</p>
<p>Thank you as always for your comments and feedback - much appreciated!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly pulled the jeep into the short, gravel driveway of Nicole’s home, butterflies surging in her stomach as she pushed the gear stick into park. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One week.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Waverly Earp had experienced enough abandonment in her time to know for certain that it was not something she wanted to do to Nicole, but she had been spinning in circles in her mind all day as to how she was going to explain this to her. She was barely able to comprehend her situation herself, but she had only a few days left, and since she was yet to figure out how to get out of it, she needed to find a way to tell Nicole that she may be leaving. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair and blinking back her tears as she stepped out of the car and up onto the front porch, her fingers trembling slightly as she rang the bell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly stilled as the door flew back, and her eyes landed on the dimpled grin and the warm mocha eyes that never failed to make her melt. She dropped her gaze, taking in the loose grey sweatpants and fitted tank top that clung to Nicole’s curves, and she swallowed thickly, her anticipation forgotten almost immediately. She was pretty sure it should be illegal for someone to look that sexy in lounge wear, and she couldn’t tear her eyes from the way the sweats hung low, revealing the peaks of the officer’s hips, teasing just below the hem of the maroon tank. She forced her gaze back to Nicole’s just in time to see a beaming grin cross her face, before she gripped the front of Waverly’s coat and pulled her in, kissing her passionately. Waverly didn't even notice them step back, nor the door being closed behind them, her mind full entirely of the feeling of Nicole’s lips on her own and her body pressed against her. She chased Nicole’s lips as the officer pulled back, unable to stop a grin from spreading across her face. The redhead’s eyes were sparkling, her dimples prominent in flushed cheeks, and she looked so happy that it was infectious, and Waverly immediately pushed down any thoughts of Domhan Draiocht and what lay ahead of her, her mind only able to focus on the woman in front of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wrapped her arms around Nicole’s waist as she followed her into the living room, her face breaking into a giddy grin as she took in the set up around her. The cushions had been pulled from the couch and placed around the low coffee table, on which sat two pizza boxes, two bottles of beer, and a pile of board games. On the couch was a neatly folded pair of sweats and a PPD t-shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"In case you wanted to get comfy." Nicole shrugged shyly, gesturing towards the clothes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole chuckled as Waverly grinned, clapping her hands in excitement. The brunette grabbed the clothes, planted a kiss on Nicole’s cheek, and skipped up the stairs to get changed. There was something about being wrapped in Nicole’s clothes, the scent of vanilla encapsulating her, that made her feel giddy, and she bit her lip as she scurried back downstairs, now slightly dwarfed in the oversized sweatpants. Waverly dropped immediately onto the cushion closest to Nicole, her hand gravitating naturally to rest on the redhead’s inner thigh as she leaned in against her. As she felt Nicole’s arm wrap around her shoulders, Waverly turned, sliding the fingers of her free hand over the redhead’s jaw, and pulled her into a kiss. She kept the kiss short but deepened it instantly, slipping her tongue into Nicole’s mouth in a way that bordered on filthy, before pulling back and feigning innocence, picking up the game on top of the pile and reading the summary on the back of the box. She bit back a smirk as she felt Nicole’s thigh tense against hers, and she risked a glance at the redhead’s face, feeling particularly smug at the way the blown pupils bore into her, and the way her lips were still parted. Teasing Nicole had fast become one of her favourite games, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping she might get to do a little more than tease her tonight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Scrabble, Monopoly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ooooh </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jenga…” Waverly sang, trying her hardest to ignore the pulse between her thighs and the still slightly heavy fall of Nicole’s breathing, as she ran her fingers over the spines of the games piled on the table. “I</span>
  <em>
    <span> love</span>
  </em>
  <span> this game!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole chuckled, a shake of her head seeming to pull her out of her haze, though her eyes remained darker and her fingers teased lightly over the back of Waverly’s neck, sending a shiver down the brunette’s spine. Waverly tried to focus as she set up the game, the ache between her thighs growing stronger as Nicole’s fingers worked their way down her spine and up under the hem of her t-shirt, trailing gently over the small of her back. They hadn’t even started their evening, and the air was already so thick that Waverly was certain it was getting harder to breathe. She clenched her thighs together with a soft chuckle, and drove all of her focus onto stacking the small wooden blocks on the table before them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They played for a while, the time seeming to fly between the games, eating pizza, drinking beers, talking, and touches and kisses that were growing harder and harder to restrain. Waverly was a goner, and she knew it. Nicole was able to flip the switch back and forth effortlessly, taking her from breathless laughter, to breathless arousal and back again in mere seconds, and she had never felt so safe and so wanted. There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no way</span>
  </em>
  <span> some archaic, whimsical rule was taking this away from her now, and she frankly wasn’t even prepared to entertain the thought. She grinned, pushing her counter one square too far on the monopoly board to avoid a tax payment. She bit back a chuckle as she watched Nicole’s brow crease, enjoying the way the officer grew flustered as she tried not to let Waverly’s cheating bother her. She had been pushing the boundaries all evening, and so far Nicole had yet to crack, simply letting her win. She had softened the blow with kisses and light touches that she knew were driving the redhead mad, and she loved that Nicole was starting to lose her focus. She pushed the counter one further, biting her lip to suppress her laughter as Nicole huffed in irritation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you go thinking I don’t see you cheating, Miss Earp.” Nicole scolded, the sparkle in her eyes and the ghost of a grin on her face betraying her good natured teasing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You gonna do anything about it, Officer?” Waverly smirked, batting her eyelashes, the lilt in her voice like honey.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep.” Nicole surged forward, pushing Waverly down against the cushions and pinning her beneath her body. She leaned in to kiss her, her hands running painfully slowly up the outside of the brunette’s thighs, and then her sides. Waverly's breath hitched as teasing fingertips </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> brushed against the underside of her breasts, before Nicole bit down on the brunette’s lower lip and pulled back with a smirk, sitting herself upright and turning back to the game. “You’re gonna miss a turn.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly bit back a groan, prickling heat coursing under the skin of her neck and her chest, her cheeks flushed red. She squeezed her thighs together, fighting to control the short, heavy bursts of her breathing. Nicole grinned, shaking the dice in the cockiest way Waverly had ever seen anyone perform such a mundane action, and the brunette couldn’t help but laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst</span>
  </em>
  <span> girlfriend.” Waverly froze as the words left her lips, a deep blush spreading across her face. The word had just felt so natural on her tongue, but they hadn't actually discussed it, and she felt her pulse race with the fear that she had just well and truly jumped the gun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I mean…” She stuttered, trailing off quickly as Nicole quirked an eyebrow, a lopsided grin dimpling her cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Nicole chuckled, her eyes a warm, intoxicating mix of reassurance and elation that instantly relaxed Waverly’s mind. “Tell me, would the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst girlfriend</span>
  </em>
  <span> have three different flavours of vegan ice cream in her freezer specifically for this occasion?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Waverly gasped, grabbing Nicole’s shoulders as she scrambled to her feet. “But she might have waited this long to </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> me about it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, cheats don’t get treats.” Nicole shrugged, moving to follow, and giggled as Waverly pushed her back down, her hands on the front of her shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Screw you, Haught," Waverly teased, stepping back out of reach as Nicole reached to pull her down with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Later.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole smirked, her eyes dark and her voice low, and Waverly felt the word trickle through her bloodstream, pooling eventually between her legs. She swallowed hard, surrendering any efforts to retort under the sudden intensity in the air and the playful fire behind Nicole’s gaze. She shook her head, throwing a mock scowl in the redhead’s direction, though she couldn’t hide the smile that forced its way into it. Waverly grinned, backing away quickly as Nicole clambered to her feet. She raced into the kitchen with the redhead hot on her heels, Nicole grabbing at her waist to pull her close, planting soft kisses over her neck from behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Nicole broke away to retrieve bowls and spoons, Waverly’s eyes wandered to the kitchen table. The surface was spotless, but for a small pile of unmarked files that to anyone else would be conspicuous, but Waverly was only too aware of their contents. Her stomach dropped, the reminder leaving a sour taste on the back of her tongue. How much did Nicole know? Had Wynonna told her about Bobo’s tattoo? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You okay, baby?" Nicole’s soft voice broke the silence, an uncertain concern clear in its tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nic, I…" Waverly faltered. This was her way in, but she still had no idea what she was supposed to say; where to even start, or how much to share. She took a deep breath, fixing her eyes on Nicole’s gaze as she spoke. "Did Wynonna tell you about the symbol?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole’s eyes softened to understanding, and she put the bowls down on the counter, stepping closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I wasn't sure if you'd want to talk about this. She told me you had seen it on someone who came to visit you." Nicole’s voice was lower than usual, a tremor running beneath it that Waverly didn't recognise in the usually composed officer. Her eyes flickered with fear, and Waverly could see that she was fighting not to let it show. "Waverly you need to be careful."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So do you, Nicole." Waverly's own chest tightened as she watched the fear play out in the officer’s eyes. Fear for </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but Nicole didn't know. She needed to make the redhead understand how much danger she was in, getting involved in these cases. "Please, baby, the people who use those symbols, they're dangerous, they-they're </span>
  <em>
    <span>powerful</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they're…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know." Nicole cut Waverly’s words off, her voice both soft and firm at the same time. She reached her hands out, catching Waverly’s flailing ones and bringing them down between their bodies, linking their fingers together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, Nicole you…" Waverly bit back tears, guilt and fear overwhelming her as she tried to piece together what she needed to say. What she </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> say. "Please, you have to stop investigating this, you'll get hurt and I can’t explain wh…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Waverly</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Nicole’s voice was calmer now, and her warm eyes searched the brunette’s, reassurance mingling with the concern that washed through them. "I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You…" Waverly stared for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest. Was Nicole not listening, or was it possible that she really did understand? She blinked. "Wh-what?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know about the Witches Council, Wave.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly froze, her heart lurching into her mouth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How? She searched Nicole’s face, for what she didn't know, but she found honesty, compassion and concern and it made her shoulders drop instinctively. Nicole stepped back, pulling gently on Waverly’s hands to encourage her to move with her, gesturing towards the table for them both to sit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I…" Nicole took a visible deep breath, her eyes flicking between Waverly’s, her hands finding home again linked with her girlfriend's. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m right in assuming that you are a witch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly froze, her eyes widening and her jaw falling slack. Nicole’s voice was steady, her eyes were focused and she didn't seem scared. Not of Waverly and her power, and the thought both confused and relieved the brunette. How did she know?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, are you a witch?" Waverly gasped, not even trying to hide the astonished excitement from her voice. "Do you have power too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole let out a short chuckle, her eyes dulling briefly, and dropping from Waverly’s for the first time, focusing instead on a knot in the wooden table as she shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. No I’m not a witch.” Nicole sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before reconnecting them with Waverly’s. “I was recruited several years ago as part of a task force known as the Black Badge Division. We've been working for a long time, Wave, to bring down the Witches Council.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To… to bring them </span>
  <em>
    <span>down</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" Waverly furrowed her brows. "Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because of the things they </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> to people, Waverly!” Nicole’s voice hardened, her eyes flickering with a fire that could only be fuelled by anger. “Witches mainly, but non-magical people too. This - this </span>
  <em>
    <span>draconic</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea that someone must live there or their whole family are killed, it needs to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Killed?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Waverly's blood ran cold, the hairs on her arms standing on end. Surely that wasn’t right. "They take the powers, but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes." Nicole interrupted, reaching across the table for the file that lay at the top of the pile. "And sometimes the power is too strong for them to take.” She opened the file, pulling out a photo and throwing it down on the table. The bodies of a family; an adult and three teenagers, all with the symbol emblazoned across their chests. “And then they do </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Nicole’s anger was palatable, each word spat with more fury than the last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>No! </span>
  </em>
  <span>No, this is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunters!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Waverly could hear the tremble in her own voice, but the anger rose to meet Nicole’s as she slammed her palm over the photo, no longer able to look at the devastating image before her. "This is wrong, the council is archaic but these Black Badge people have the wrong guys, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> have… you have the wrong…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly trailed off as she turned her eyes back to Nicole’s. The fire was gone, and the fear was back. Her eyes were wide, her skin pale, and her lip trembled slightly as she tried to control her heavy breathing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't think this is them?" Waverly breathed. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be. The symbol, everything Jeremy had said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The…" Nicole’s voice shook. "The </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunters</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There are these-these </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Waverly explained, her pitch rising as her fear and her anger combined. "These </span>
  <em>
    <span>shitheads</span>
  </em>
  <span> who can…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I-I know what they are, Wave, but…" Nicole paused for a moment, the fire softening to something sadder in her eyes as she studied the fear and the anger in Waverly’s. "No. I don't think this is the hunters. I need you to hear me out Waverly because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>need you to be safe. I'm very certain that this is the council, and I'm very certain I know why."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why?" Waverly sat forward, her fear ebbing slightly into her curiosity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think the answer is in the symbol." Nicole flicked the photo, drawing Waverly’s eyes back to it. "The ancient symbol of high power. A symbol once associated with those who ruled over everything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They want to return to the days when Domham Draiocht was all powerful?” Waverly breathed, goosebumps rising over her skin as she considered the terrifying possibility that this could be true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It seems that way to me." Nicole nodded, her eyes glazing with a distant anger once more as she studied the image. “It’s not just the removal of power, Wave. There’s a war brewing in Domhan Draiocht. An uprising has begun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“An </span>
  <em>
    <span>uprising?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Waverly spat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Every</span>
  </em>
  <span> damn time she thought she'd heard it all...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are a lot of witches who think like you, Waverly. And the original families are dying out. People are rebelling, fighting to overthrow the council, but…” Nicole sighed, running her fingers through her hair, the other hand flipping the file open again to pull out more photographs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But they’re still too strong. And they’re killing.” Nicole threw another photo onto the table; a young woman, no older than 35, with the same symbol engraved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And they’re massacring.” She threw another photo down, each one just as gory as the last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And they are taking power.” The final photo showed a man with a knife in his own hand, the symbol on his chest incomplete. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And they </span>
  <em>
    <span>need to be stopped.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nicole slammed a balled fist onto the pile of photos, growling her words through gritted teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Waverly closed her eyes, her mind swimming as the etched symbol remained on the inside of her eyelids, causing nausea to sweep through her stomach. "Why haven’t Black Badge stopped them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve been trying, but they’re powerful." Nicole shook her head, her eyes flickering with guilt; a self-deprecating apology that tightened in Waverly’s chest. "We’ve taken down a few of the members, but we need to take them out as a whole. We’re just trying to figure out how.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly reached her hand out, cupping Nicole’s cheek as she spoke. The officer looked so beaten, and yet somehow so determined still and it tugged on every one of Waverly’s heart strings. Nicole smiled softly, leaning into the touch as she continued, her voice lower, exhaustion audible beneath the fire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve been working on a shield, but so far all we have is a hold that stops the wearer using their power, and it’s just… it’s taking too long, and...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please find one soon, Nic.” Waverly leaned forward, capturing Nicole’s lips in a soft kiss. “Because I don’t want to leave you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole stilled, her face paling and her eyes widening as she processed Waverly’s words and the implication that lay behind them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They came to see me because it’s my turn," Waverly whispered, leaning her forehead against Nicole’s, needing to feel the comfort of her girlfriend's touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>no way</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I’m let…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Waverly brushed her lips against Nicole’s as she spoke, before kissing her firmly, her hands sliding onto the back of her neck. “I know, baby. It sounds like we’re in this fight together now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need you to know that I will protect you, Wave." Nicole pulled back, just enough to connect deep, earnest eyes on Waverly’s. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Always</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you will." Waverly smiled softly, pulling Nicole's lips back to brush against her own. "But for now, I just need you to kiss me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kiss started soft and slow, something new running beneath it; something deeper. An understanding and a connection that felt stronger tonight. Waverly slipped her hands into red hair, tangling the locks around her fingers, the heat creeping quickly into the movement of their lips. A soft moan broke from the back of her throat as she felt Nicole’s tongue slide over her lips, searching for her own, and she pushed her chair back, moving to straddle the officer’s lap. She smirked as she felt the redhead’s hands cup her ass, pulling her closer as the kiss grew hungrier. She tugged gently in the locks twisted around her fingers, her stomach flipping at the low responding groan that vibrated through the kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Waverly…" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nicole warned, her voice husky with arousal. "Baby wait, I-I really need you to understand...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> baby. Later,” Waverly murmured, pressing her hips against Nicole’s stomach as she pulled her back into the kiss, trying to convey with her lips how much she needed just to feel. She clenched her fist in red hair, tugging firmer this time, the move doubling to use her power to send the sensation of nails running firmly over Nicole’s back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Nicole broke away, groaning loudly as her hips pushed forward, her hands clutching at Waverly’s ass to hold her close. “That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> many levels of unfair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take me upstairs, Nic.” Waverly smirked, looking up at Nicole’s hooded eyes through her lashes as she toyed with the hair at the base of her neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Nicole whispered, her eyes softening for a moment as she searched Waverly’s for any signs of hesitation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure.” Waverly bit her lip with a smile. She traced her fingers over Nicole’s jaw, and her full lips, her heart racing as she took in the soft need sparking behind wide, gentle eyes. She clenched her fist in Nicole’s hair once more, her power dragging the same sensation of nails over the curves of the redhead’s ass. "God, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>sure."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly’s breath hitched as she watched Nicole’s eyes darken, fire smouldering behind their intense gaze as she stood effortlessly, wrapping the brunette’s legs around her waist. She grinned; that cocky, dimpled grin that never failed to leave Wavery’s knees weak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You are in </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>much trouble, Waverly Earp."</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole’s voice was lower than Waverly had heard it before, and she swallowed thickly as it dropped searing heat through her stomach and lower. The grip of the officer’s hands on the underside of her thighs was firm but it was gentle; steady and wanting, but never possessive. Blackened, hungry eyes stayed fixed on Waverly’s, the fire now burning a relentless path straight through her body and into her core. Kiss swollen lips hovered just a breath from her own as Nicole moved, carrying her steadily up the stairs to the bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly dropped her legs from around Nicole’s waist as the redhead kicked the bedroom door closed behind them, leaning back against it, playful dark eyes watching her every move. She took a step back, just beyond the officer’s reach, grinning as Nicole raised an eyebrow in amusement. She smirked, beckoning with her finger as she backed slowly towards the bed. Nicole pushed herself off of the door, moving just a single step closer, her eyes dropping to drink in every part of Waverly’s body. The brunette followed their movement, feeling emboldened under the lust filled gaze, and the way the redhead’s fingers clenched as she tried to maintain her composure. Waverly ground her hips, rolling her body in an effort to break her girlfriend’s control; to entice her closer and quickly, but the mischievous fire in mocha eyes told the brunette she was in trouble. She had teased Nicole for hours - for </span>
  <em>
    <span>weeks</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if she was honest - and she knew the officer wasn’t going to give in to her that easily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She kept her eyes on Nicole’s as she pushed herself back onto the bed, leaning back on her elbows. She could feel the slight tremble of nerves and arousal through her muscles as Nicole moved slowly towards her, her eyes growing ever hungrier as she reached the bed, dropping to crawl up over Waverly’s body. The brunette gasped as soft lips found the sliver of exposed skin below the hem of her shirt, and the officer’s hands trailed feather light over the inside of her calves, the touch getting firmer as it passed over her thighs. Waverly’s breath hitched as Nicole took the hem of her t-shirt in her mouth, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she moved up over the brunette’s torso, bringing the material with her. Nicole smirked, dropping the material just short of the curves that begged for her touch, replacing the fabric with the brunette’s lips in a deep, heated kiss that left Waverly’s head swimming. Her hands trailed lightly up the brunette’s sides, slipping beneath the shirt, and Waverly moaned softly into the kiss as teasing fingers </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>skirted the sides of her breasts, her nipples straining against the fabric in their need to be touched. Nicole rolled her hips, the movement connecting straight to Waverly’s clit, and the brunette arched instinctively into them, amazed at how lost she already felt in Nicole’s touch. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, and she could swear her girlfriend’s fingers roamed every single one of them, mapping her body out with burning lines of desire as her lips ran over her jaw and her neck, her tongue darting out to tease the spots that made the brunette shiver. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole’s rolling hips pressed against her again, firmer this time, and Waverly whimpered, her clothes now feeling far too restrictive as the heat surged under her skin. She pushed forward, tugging at her own shirt and at Nicole’s, desperate to feel the redhead’s bare skin against her own. She groaned, chuckling in frustration at the cocky smirk on her girlfriend’s face as she pushed back, pinning her down beneath her body. Nicole’s lips trailed down, working their way over the brunette’s chest, laying heated kisses over the material of the shirt. She kept her eyes fixed on Waverly’s as she closed her lips firmly over a hardened nipple, her tongue teasing through the layer of fabric. Waverly groaned, her back arching instinctively. The touch was both too much and not enough, and she fought desperately to keep from writhing in frustration under her girlfriend’s teasing. Nicole pulled back, a devilish smirk tugging at her lips, her eyes an intoxicating mix of awe, arousal, and mischief that set butterflies of anticipation surging in Waverly’s stomach. She grinned as she moved to repeat her actions on the other side of Waverly’s chest, her breath hot over the untouched peak that strained against the material. Waverly bit back a grin, and bit her lip as she clenched her fist, her power removing her own shirt and leaving her bare to Nicole’s attention. She watched in smug anticipation as Nicole’s eyes dropped, widening, blackening as they took in the exposed curves of Waverly’s breasts for the first time. The officer chuckled lowly, shaking her head, but Waverly could see the blown pupils and the heaving chest, and she knew she’d taken Nicole by surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Remind me to bring my handcuffs next time," Nicole murmured. Her breath ghosted over Waverly’s nipple as she spoke, and her fingers traced the curves around it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can still clench my fist in handcuffs." Waverly bit back a moan, fighting to keep the heated desire from her voice. She was losing this game and she knew it; every touch of Nicole’s fingers, and every ghost of her lips setting Waverly’s body alight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Doesn't matter </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>you do in BBD handcuffs, Earp." Nicole grinned, wriggling her eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly furrowed her brows, distracted for a moment by the meaning behind those words. She opened her mouth to ask more, but cut her own words off with a groan as Nicole closed her lips over her now bare nipple and sucked, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and all coherent thought fled her brain. Waverly’s head fell back against the pillows, her back arching and her hips rolling as Nicole alternated between sucking and flicking her tongue over the hardened bud. She was certain she had never been so wet, and even the soft circles Nicole’s fingertips made over the dips of her hips were starting to feel like they could make her come undone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nic…" Waverly breathed, pushing back at her girlfriend’s shoulders. "Nic, baby, I wanna see you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole smirked as she relented, shuffling back to kick off her own sweatpants. She straddled Waverly’s hips, grinding gently as she slowly lifted her own shirt over her head, throwing it to the floor beside the bed. Waverly’s blood heated through her veins as her eyes dropped over the newly exposed flesh, her mouth dry and her core pulsing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Her composure snapped as Nicole ground her hips firmer, and the muscles rolled beneath the curves of her stomach. Waverly surged forward, hungrily seeking contact with her lips, trailing kisses and bites over Nicole’s neck and then her collarbone, before running the flat of her tongue over her nipples, her core clenching as they hardened under her touch. She closed her lips over one, sucking it firmly into her mouth, and clenched her fist to use her power to mimic the action on the other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole’s hoarse gasp of surprise bled quickly into a guttural groan, and she threw her head back as she arched into the touch. Waverly flicked her tongue, pulling gently at the bud with her teeth, her power still mirroring the ministrations on both breasts. Nicole growled, gripping Waverly’s wrists as she surged forward, pinning the brunette back down beneath her. A dark hunger replaced the teasing mischief in the officer’s eyes and in her touch, and Waverly could feel her muscles trembling as her girlfriend’s lips and tongue began to claim every inch of her writhing body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly would swear she was on fire, energy sparking from every nerve. Her mind was growing cloudy, and she couldn’t remember ever needing anything as desperately as she needed Nicole’s touch to soothe the flames that burned between her legs. She clenched her fist, using her power to remove her sweatpants, no longer able to bear the barrier between skin on skin, or at very least the cool air of the room on her overheated flesh. Nicole growled; a deep, guttural sound that drew a moan from Waverly’s own lips, and she pressed her weight down, pinning the brunette’s arms by her sides, her hand splaying Waverly’s to prevent her fist from clenching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to</span>
  <em>
    <span>,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" she murmured, her voice gravelly with desire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly nodded, the unbridled hunger in her girlfriend’s eyes and her voice pulsing through her blood, pooling in her centre. She felt wanted; </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a way she never had before, and it only made her own desire stronger. She rocked her hips up into Nicole, whimpering as the officer ground down to meet them, mocha eyes flickering closed and her jaw dropping. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the look on Nicole’s face, her mind swimming with aroused awe as she repeated the movement, biting her lip at the soft moan that fell from her girlfriend’s lips as she ground down, taking her pleasure from Waverly’s body. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That moan</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The sound sent a shiver down Waverly’s spine, and she knew that she wanted to draw it from Nicole’s lips again more than she had ever wanted anything. She tugged at the restraint across her palms, and Nicole leaned back to connect earnest eyes with her girlfriend’s as she released her hold. Waverly nodded, smiling softly. She understood the message. Just her. Not magic.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wrapped a hand around the back of Nicole’s neck, pulling her in to kiss her slowly, humming in satisfaction as she felt goosebumps rise under her touch. Her fingers slipped between their bodies to toy with the edges of the redhead’s underwear, tugging gently on the waistband, pulling the material up to press against the redhead’s clit. Nicole gasped, letting out a shaky moan as she moved her lips to Waverly’s neck, her breath heavy against her skin as the brunette slipped her fingers over the front of her underwear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,</span>
  <em>
    <span> baby</span>
  </em>
  <span>…" Waverly moaned, her desire burning through her stomach and lower as she took in how wet her girlfriend felt beneath the material. For her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Because </span>
  </em>
  <span>of her. She shuddered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She circled the tips of her fingers over the fabric, her heart racing as Nicole seemed to lose herself for a moment, grinding greedily into the touch. Waverly’s heart hammered in her chest, the heat beneath her skin almost too much to bear as the redhead’s eyes closed, her breath falling short and her lip pulled firmly between her teeth as she rocked harder into her girlfriend’s teasing fingers. Waverly whimpered in frustration as Nicole seemed to catch herself, chuckling as she stilled, closing her fingers around the brunette’s wrist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nuh-uh." Nicole smirked, her cheeks and her chest flushed as she focused her eyes on Waverly’s, dropping her hips back out of the brunette’s reach. "That can wait, baby. I have been wanting to taste you </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>night."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly whimpered, her words of protest failing as Nicole began to trace her tongue torturously slowly down between her breasts, over the line between her abs, and over her stomach, leaving burning trails of fire in its wake. She held her breath, expecting the touch to stop as the officer reached the band of her underwear. She exhaled heavily, a hoarse groan escaping her throat as Nicole merely tugged the fabric down, the trail continuing over the flesh below the material. Waverly groaned in frustration, balling her fists into the sheets as Nicole chuckled, stopping </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>before her heated tongue reached the brunette’s pulsing centre. Waverly gripped tighter at the sheets beside her, desperate to ground herself as her arousal and her need threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn’t tear her eyes from Nicole. She looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking sexy; dark, determined eyes boring into her own, her hair tousled and her kiss swollen lips curled into a smirk. She blew lightly over Waverly’s clit, making slow, deliberate work of sliding her underwear down her legs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the material finally gone, Nicole ran her hands up the inside of Waverly’s thighs and pushed firmly, exposing the brunette fully to her for the first time. Waverly shivered, fighting against the urge to cover herself, her nerves contradicting the almost painful need for Nicole to touch her. She whimpered as the redhead made a low noise in the back of her throat that clenched in her core, and then the heated touch of her tongue swiped through her centre, the sensation immediately overwhelming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After the slow tease, Waverly had expected a light touch to build, but Nicole was wasting no time. Insistent lips and a devastating tongue devoured her, carnal and raw, sending her hurtling rapidly towards a release she had never been so desperate for. When soft fingertips teased at her entrance, Waverly knew she was done for. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was done for; her muscles writhing frantically against the mattress, her hands twisted in the sheets, her eyes burning into Nicole’s, and broken moans spilling freely into the air between them. She cried out as two fingers sank hard into her, and her entire body immediately clenched, fighting to keep the touch where she needed it. Nicole drew her fingers back, curling the tips into Waverly’s body in flames as her tongue continued to tear the brunette's world apart. Waverly had never experienced pleasure like this without falling over the edge, and she couldn’t understand how Nicole had her teetering so precariously; so </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperately, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for so long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Nic…" Waverly gasped. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole smirked, her eyebrow arching in a way that was infuriatingly sexy to Waverly, and the brunette growled. She was fast losing control, and she opened her mouth to demand the release that she needed. The words never came; lost in a soundless cry as Nicole's lips wrapped tightly around her clit, sucking and pulsing it between them. The sensation of Nicole’s mouth on her clit, and the deep thrusts of her curled fingers was too much for Waverly to take, the pleasure searing in every nerve in her body and she cried out, crashing hard around the redhead’s touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything in that moment was Nicole. Just Nicole. No magic, no council, no Domhan Draiocht, no hunters. Just Nicole and the obliterating pleasure ripping through her body. She clutched at red hair as she rode her high, needing the grip to keep her grounded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, baby you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> unbelievably sexy…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole’s hoarse voice sounded almost distant in Waverly’s ears, whispering below the blood that thundered through her body, and the thump of her heartbeat as her girlfriend eased her down from her high. Soft lips planted trails of kisses over Waverly’s body as Nicole moved back up, and the brunette hummed in blissed out appreciation, her skin still sensitive to every touch. Waverly’s hazed mind expected the gentle brush of Nicole’s lips to meet her own; expected whispering softness, and she sobbed with unexpected pleasure as the officer gripped her legs, pushing them up into her chest. She groaned deeply as Nicole sank her tongue into her mouth in a filthy kiss that set her whole body alight anew, her fingers finding home deeper into Waverly’s core than she could ever have expected. Waverly clawed at Nicole’s back, her body shaking uncontrollably as the redhead began to thrust relentlessly into her, hitting her g spot effortlessly with every thrust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span> baby,” Nicole groaned, her eyes flickering closed as Waverly’s muscles began to clench once more around her fingers. “The way you </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and the way you </span>
  <em>
    <span>taste</span>
  </em>
  <span>…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The low murmur ghosted over the shell of Waverly’s ear, her tongue darting out to punctuate her words, and she bit down gently on her earlobe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I could watch you fall apart beneath me all night."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly's nails dragged across the redhead's shoulders and up into her hair, gripping tightly as she plummeted into a second orgasm in minutes, sobbing Nicole’s name into her shoulder as her girlfriend’s touch and her whispered words broke her apart. Somewhere in her clouded senses she was aware of Nicole’s lips trailing back over her chest, her girlfriend making her way back down between her legs with one clear goal in mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you dare," she growled, her voice broken as she fought to regain control of her breathing and her senses. "I've been patient, baby, but…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gripped the redhead’s wrists, pushing forwards with her hips to flip them over, pinning Nicole’s body beneath her own. She grinned, brushing her lips over the deep flush that burned on Nicole’s neck, her fingers dancing over the officer’s trembling abs, nails skirting along the waistband of her underwear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> turn now."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂</span></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly glanced at the clock. 2am. The gentle, rhythmic rise and fall of Nicole’s chest beneath the palm of her hand as she slept beside her kept her calm, but her mind was swimming far too much to sleep. She had just days before her life would change in one way or another, and she was fairly sure she didn't want any of the options that she could see before her right now. She wanted to stay. She wanted Nicole, and her life with Wynonna, and her job, and her newfound friendship with Jeremy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She needed to understand her dreams; her </span>
  <em>
    <span>visions</span>
  </em>
  <span>, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever </span>
  </em>
  <span>they were. She just needed to know what her father was trying to tell her. She rolled onto her back, trying to clear her mind in the way she had learned to do in her meditation. She shook her head, biting her lip as her mind flooded instantly with flashbacks of Nicole’s touch, and of the way strong thighs gripped her close as the redhead clenched around her tongue. She shuddered, screwing her eyes tight in an effort to force the images from her head. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to focus. She took a deep breath, relaxing her body and mind in the way her videos had taught her to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The room was dimly lit, the glow almost ethereal as the moon shone through the open curtains. Peaceful. Blissful. The face was one she knew well, and not the one she had expected. Red hair flowed freely around her shoulders, her dimples set in smiling cheeks. She didn't seem to see her, warm mocha eyes looking through her, and the whispered words that floated in the air around them weren't clear enough to make out. The image was fleeting, blurring fast at the edges as Waverly tried to call the name that tasted so good on her tongue, her conscious mind pulling her back before the word could pass her lips.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nicole?" Waverly gasped, sitting upright as she felt her girlfriend stir beside her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"M'ere baby, you'k?" Nicole murmured, her arm fumbling for Waverly in her sleep addled state.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly’s heart pounded in her chest as she lay back, goosebumps rising over her skin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span> was that? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nicole?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She had only ever seen her father. She closed her eyes, letting the light traces of Nicole’s fingers over her waist calm her racing pulse. She clearly had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> to learn, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was running out of time to do so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Hunt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you as always for your feedback, and for sticking with me! I promise to start answering some questions now that we're on the home stretch ;)</p>
<p>The time has come, and Waverly has a choice to make!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly planted a soft kiss on Nicole’s shoulder and slipped quietly from the bed, throwing a blanket over her shoulders as she padded across the room. She smiled softly as Nicole stirred behind her, snuggling further into the blankets with a contented sigh. Despite everything she had learned about the fate laid out for her, somehow she had still never felt so happy, and she knew that she owed that to Wynonna, and to Jeremy, and in spades to the woman she was fast finding herself falling for. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so at home. Never laughing so much, or feeling so safe, or so listened to, or so cared for. Certainly never have so much fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>unbelievable</span>
  </em>
  <span>, mind blowing sex that left her shaking for hours every damn time. She could not get enough of her girlfriend, and the need to find a way to stop the call to Domhan Draoicht grew impossibly stronger with every touch of Nicole’s lips. She wrapped herself up on the cushioned bench that sat snug beneath the bay window, overlooking the moonlit grounds of the homestead. This had become routine for Waverly over the past week, the impending deadline driving her into a desperate need to understand her power. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had seen Nicole a few times in her conscious visions, when she had focused her mind on thoughts of her girlfriend, but the images were always blurry. She had fast come to learn that it was easier to reach the images late at night when Nicole lay sleeping beside her. Even then the visions were always fleeting, and she was yet to hear any words; not like the way she did when she saw Julian. Nicole’s lips never moved, and her eyes never truly saw Waverly, but hushed whispers always sounded in the air. Waverly grasped at them, straining to pick out something she could identify, but it always pulled the images from her mind, sending her crashing back, frustrated and confused, to her reality. Some nights the whispers had seemed serene, and other nights the space had felt filled with fear and anxiety; an inexplicable tension, and it had taken Waverly a number of days to register that the air felt the same way that Nicole’s eyes did when she woke. She didn’t understand why or how that could be so, but the visible thread that ran between the visions and the reality had her more convinced than ever that the words her father told her were crucial. She needed control. She needed to hold onto the visions; to open her mind to more than a few cryptic words. She needed to speak back, to ask questions. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Control.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her visions of Nicole had left her wondering, and tonight as she sat in the tranquil quiet of the homestead, she thought of her sister. She closed her eyes, Wynonna’s face in her focus as she opened her mind in the way she had learned to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She stood, her back to Waverly on the porch of the homestead. The vision was clear; the dirt and the dust of the drive, and the dark skies lit only by the stars and the low lamps that glowed from the building behind them. Wynonna stood frozen, recognisable always by the fringe of her leather jacket, and the chestnut curls that spilled across her shoulders. The sounds that filled the air played on a loop as the vision repeated, over and over; the muted fire of a gun, the screams of a young girl, the thud of a body to the dust and the dirt. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Waverly tried to pull back, the memories too strong; too painful, but she couldn’t move. Frozen behind her sister as she watched the bullet pierce her father’s chest, and his lifeless body fall. She tried to cry out, tried to call for Wynonna, tried to reach out as she stood rooted, forced to hear again the screams of her oldest sister as the faceless strangers dragged her into the darkness. Over again. And over again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Waverly!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The panicked voice broke her free, pulling her back to reality as Nicole’s scent forced its way into her muted senses, and strong arms pulled her trembling body into her chest. She gripped the front of Nicole’s shoulders, burying her face into her girlfriend’s embrace as she let the sobs burst from her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Baby, it’s okay,” Nicole’s hushed voice soothed her racing mind, her fingers stroking softly through her hair. “You’re okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nic…” Waverly sniffed, the touch and the scent and the familiar surroundings of the room around her bringing her back. “I’m sorry, I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, no…” Nicole murmured, laying a soft kiss on Waverly’s temple. “Never apologise. You can talk to me if you want, or I can just hold you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly wrapped her arms around Nicole’s neck, pressing her body as close as she could. The officer’s presence had never failed to comfort her, from the moment they had met, and tonight she felt that stronger than she ever had. The gentle touches and the soft whispers pulled at Waverly’s tired muscles, and she felt herself relax into the steady rhythm of her girlfriend’s breathing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to explain everything, baby, but…” Waverly pulled back, searching Nicole’s concerned eyes with her own. “Maybe tomorrow? For now, can you just take me to bed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly couldn’t hold back the soft smile as Nicole swept her up with ease, scooping the blanket with her as she carried her back to the bed. She sighed contentedly as Nicole scooted in behind her, wrapping her arm tightly over her chest and planting a kiss between Waverly’s shoulder blades.</span>
</p>
<p><span>Wavery’s mind swam as Nicole’s breathing levelled out, and the soft rise and fall of her chest signalled her falling asleep. The vision had been the clearest she had ever had, and she was more confused than ever. The thread between her visions of Nicole and the look in her eyes as she woke, and the clear reality of the vision she had seen from Wynonna’s perspective… the patterns were starting to emerge, and Waverly was both excited and terrified by the implications. She was beginning to suspect that what she had seen tonight was Wynonna’s mind as she slept, and that thought shattered her heart into countless painful pieces. But the question that lingered strong and unforgiving in her mind was what puzzled her the most. Nicole hadn’t known she was there. Wynonna hadn’t known she was there. But Julian had. All her life, Julian had. He had run to her, spoken to her, touched her. Even now; even after his death. </span><em><span>How?</span></em> <em><span>Why?</span></em><span> It just didn’t add up.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>She closed her eyes, willing her body to let sleep take over. Maybe tonight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe tonight he would explain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂        </span> <span>꧁꧂</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly swatted Wynonna’s hand away as her sister reached across to steal another handful of popcorn, her own bowl long since emptied. The movie played aimlessly in the background, but she hadn’t heard a single word, her mind too clouded with anxiety and cold fear. Wynonna was quiet beside her, her own anticipation written clear in misted blue eyes. A week. It had been a week tomorrow since Bobo Del Rey had given Waverly her ultimatum, and they had nothing. Nicole had told her to sit tight, and that Black Badge would provide protection, due to arrive with the dark. They would fight, that much Waverly was sure of, but the fear that someone would get hurt for her was overwhelming, and despite everything that told her she didn’t want to go, she knew that she would sooner surrender than allow anyone she loved to get hurt. So for now she sat pressed against her sister’s side, waiting impatiently for her girlfriend to arrive so that she could enjoy what could potentially be the last few hours of uncomplicated freedom with the people she would miss the most.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She jumped to her feet as the porch door creaked, eagerly rushing toward the sound, impatient for the grounding safety of Nicole’s arms around her waist and her lips pressed against her own. She skidded into the hallway, her slipper socks sliding on the polished wooden floors. The expectant beaming grin on her face fell as her eyes didn’t find the warm gaze and the dimpled smile she’d waited for. Her heart stopped, her blood freezing in her veins as she took a shaky step backwards, desperate fear clenching every muscle in her body as instead she found the cold, steely gaze of the man she’d grown to fear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bobo Del Rey.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Waverly’s voice broke as she whispered the name, her body betraying her as her muscles began to tremble. She wasn’t ready. They weren’t prepared, Black Badge weren’t here, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nicole </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t here, and...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your time is up, little Levine.” Bobo's lips curled up into a smile, but everything about it was cold, his low, steady voice like ice through Waverly’s veins. “Are you ready to join us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly opened her mouth to speak, but her words failed her. This wasn’t how she’d thought this would go. She had been prepared to spend one last night in Nicole’s arms, and then fight to stay. She couldn’t fight alone, not without Black Badge. She knew that right now, her only option was to go, and the thought that she would have to leave without saying goodbye to Nicole was tearing at her lungs. She clutched at her chest, fighting to stay calm under Bobo’s unyielding glare, acutely aware of John Henry Holliday's presence behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She is an </span>
  <em>
    <span>Earp</span>
  </em>
  <span>! And she’s going </span>
  <em>
    <span>nowhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The growl of Wynonna’s voice behind her snapped Waverly into focus, the click of a shotgun empowering her for long enough to kick her mind into action. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly watched as John tipped his hat, ready for the move this time, and she clenched her fist, filling the chamber once more. Two could play this game, and she was not about to be defeated. She clenched again as a thought crossed her mind, firing a text message to Nicole to warn her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bring Black Badge. They're here.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobo smirked, tilting his head to the side as he studied Wynonna in amusement. He held his hands up with a snide chuckle as the brunette stepped in front of Waverly, lowering the barrel of the gun to point between Bobo’s grey eyes. He laughed, the sound empty, and reached his hand out before him, swirling it in the way Waverly recognised as his power trigger. Waverly clenched her fist too late, crying out as Wynonna's body was thrown through the air, flying towards the wall across the hall. Waverly furrowed her brows in confusion as she watched John tip his hat to soften the blow, allowing her sister’s body to slide gently down the wall. She eyed him quizzically for a moment, until Bobo’s face swam in her vision as he moved closer, and she was reminded of the danger she faced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the matter, can’t speak for yourself?” Bobo sneered, pacing the floor before her as he laughed. He shrugged the thick fur coat from his shoulders, tossing it across the floor, leaving him shirtless. The tattoo on his wrist seemed thicker tonight, and the almost bulging lines made Waverly feel nauseous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had played this moment over in her mind. The harrowing possibility that she wouldn’t be able to fight. She had told herself she would go. Join the Uprising. Sacrifice now, hoping she could win for others, but without Nicole here she was losing her nerve and she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The decision was instantaneous. She took a step back, clenching her fist to retrieve Wynonna’s shotgun, cocking it and pointing it at Bobo. His sneering laugh shot straight down her spine, leaving the bitter taste of bile on the back of her tongue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see. Then you leave me with no choice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Babygirl</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobo's grey eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as he halted before her. His hand raised, and Waverly opened her mouth to protest, but she was too late. She could physically feel the power seep its way through her body and she froze, rooted to the spot as Bobo controlled her. The gun clattered to the floor and her hands splayed against her will, leaving her vulnerable and unable to use her own power to fight back. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and it was all she could do to keep breathing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look just like your Mother, Waverly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Bobo smirked as he stepped closer, circling her as she stood frozen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the corner of her eye, Waverly could only watch as Wynonna clambered to her feet, rushing forward with her hands outstretched to the gun. She strained against the hold, not able to move a muscle as John made to step towards her sister, freezing as Bobo spun to her immediately. He broke his focus for the briefest of moments, flicking his hand almost dismissively in Wynonna's direction. Waverly's heart sank as her sister cried out, hammering hard against the air; an invisible blockade holding her back. Waverly’s blood ran cold as Bobo turned his focus back to her, his eyes somehow colder than they ever had been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The lights used to shine in Michelle’s eyes, too, you know? Such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>shame</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when the spark went out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Poof.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bobo threw both hands in the air, a sinister smile twisting his lips. “Just like that. It’s going to be such a shame to see it leave yours too, Babygirl. I promise this will only hurt… just a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Wynonna screamed, her hammering almost ear splitting on the invisible barrier. "Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> dare.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Mama? No...</span>
  </em>
  <span> Waverly's chest splintered, her heart crushing as she finally understood. She sobbed soundlessly, every nerve frozen helplessly as Bobo flicked his hand, ripping apart the front of her shirt. She watched the swirl of the hand that held her, her heart dropping to her stomach as she noticed the tattoo, the symbol glowing as if the lines were fire. She tried to cry out, her body trembling as a sharp burning pain began to engrave itself into her chest. Her mind was growing hazy, and she could feel the surge of something searing through her whole body, the pain almost blinding. She could hear Wynonna’s muffled screaming, and if she strained her eyes she could see the bloodied line start to form on her chest. Despite her rapidly clouding mind, she knew exactly what was happening. Nicole had been right. They were taking the power, and forming the symbol on her chest. She would die, or she would lose her mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mama.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Her heart ached. She hadn’t known, but now it seemed so obvious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cold fury ran through her as the sinister words replayed in her mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The light used to shine in her eyes too.</span>
  </em>
  <span> No. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She willed her body to clench her muscles, trying her hardest to move, to resist, to fight against the pain, to hold on to the surging energy that she knew was her power leaving her body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Bobo laughed, dropping his hand to his side as he continued to pace in circles around Waverly’s frozen body. "So silly of me to forget.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pain stopped for a moment, dizzying nausea sweeping through Waverly’s body. The sudden absence of Wynonna’s screams registered loudly in her brain, and she was aware for a brief moment of John’s presence by her sister’s side, murmuring something inaudible in her ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seems I may have told you a tiny little lie, my little angel.” Bobo leered as he spoke, his face millimetres from her own. “This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Levine</span>
  </em>
  <span> power. So this might hurt a little bit more than I may have led you to believe”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smirked, coming to a halt before her. He widened his stance, lowering his chest as he swirled his hand once more. His face contorted with effort, and the tattoo lit aflame as the pain flared again in Waverly’s chest, stronger this time. It was white hot, searing every nerve ending in an unbearable burn that was ten times worse than before. Waverly tried to sob, feeling her lungs weaken as the life began to seep from her body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything happened so quickly. Through blurred, hazy eyes Waverly could see John tip his hat, breaking Wynonna free, and both lunged towards her. Just as they reached her, a gunshot rang loud behind her, splitting through the muted hum of chaos in Waverly’s ears. She watched, barely seeing as the bullet ripped through Bobo’s wrist, the glowing lines of the tattoo shattering. The roar of pain as he fell to the ground echoed in Waverly’s ears and she clung tightly to her vision as she watched his body twist and writhe on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room spun, fading slowly to black as Waverly collapsed, her face pressed against the cold wood of the floor. Intense pain still wrung through her body, and she gasped desperately for air, her chest searing with every movement. Until it stopped. The pain numbed in an instant, her lungs filling and her muscles relaxing as the world around her came back to her senses. As she looked up, she met John’s wary gaze, his fingers closed around the brim of his hat as he worked to numb and close her wounds. Wynonna stood beside him, the barrel of her shotgun aimed squarely between his legs. She could feel the presence of a warm body beside her, and the scent of vanilla brought the tears to her eyes for the first time. She turned her gaze to Nicole, her presence immediately ebbing at the tension that gripped her body. Nicole’s livid eyes were fixed on Bobo as he lay on the floor, her gun still smoking as she held it trained on his wrist, but she whispered soft words of reassurance beneath her breath, for Waverly’s ears alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Baby,” Waverly whispered, the tears falling freely as she watched the officer’s steely composure break, consuming relief washing through her eyes as they flicked to her own for a brief moment. Waverly smiled softly; reassuring, urging. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Get</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole nodded, her eyes soft for a fleeting moment longer before they steeled once more, and she turned her focus back to Bobo. She moved swiftly, keeping the gun trained on his wrist as she approached him. She gripped his uninjured arm, pulling him into a hold, and Waverly flinched as he spat and kicked in rebuttal. Waverly let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding as Nicole managed to overpower him, securing his arms in a restraint as she reached for her cuffs. She felt her stomach flip with nausea as his chilling laugh peeled across the room, his lips curled up over his teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seems a little rich, doesn’t it? For </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be protecting a </span>
  <em>
    <span>witch</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Bobo spat, sneering at Nicole as she secured the cuffs around his uninjured wrist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Waverly furrowed her brows. She had assumed that Bobo was referring to the BBD, but her girlfriend’s face had paled, her eyes betraying her anxiety, and the response was making her nervous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nicole growled, her warning meant for Bobo, but the tone was hidden beneath by the shaky fear in her voice as her pleading eyes found Waverly’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you haven’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>told </span>
  </em>
  <span>her.” Bobo laughed, pulling hard against the cuffs as Nicole’s attention shifted, causing the officer to stumble forward. “She’d kick you right out of her bed if you did, wouldn’t she... Officer</span>
  <em>
    <span> Haught.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N-Nic, what is he talking about?” Waverly felt weak, her head hurt and she could barely move, but there was something so cold in the words and something so panicked in Nicole’s eyes as they’d left Bobo’s lips that she felt her blood run cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wave, I’ll explain later...” Nicole pleaded, her desperation serving only to tighten Waverly’s chest further.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>Babygirl.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It's one of the oldest names in the book! You really can’t tell?” Bobo grinned, flailing his arms and pulling on the restraints, laughing as the officer struggled to hold him back. “What do you think </span>
  <em>
    <span>draws</span>
  </em>
  <span> her to you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nicole growled, pushing Bobo’s shoulders forwards and gripping his injured arm. Waverly watched, her heart pounding in her ears as her girlfriend secured the cuffs as far from the open wound as she could. She pressed his face down to the floor to keep him from flailing, and his muffled voice distorted, but the shout still reached Waverly’s ears, the blood curdling words crystal clear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Haught </span>
  </em>
  <span>is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunter</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waverly’s mind went black. Her chest clamped tight, and she felt like her whole world was burning beneath her feet. She trusted her girlfriend with her life, but one look was all she needed. One look at Nicole’s broken eyes and she knew it was true. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A hunter</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She stumbled to her feet, her vision blurred and her tears hot in her eyes as she staggered back, ignoring Nicole’s panicked calls, and the ache in her every muscle as she ran. She had no destination, knowing only that she needed to be as far from the lies and the overwhelming pain as her weakened body would carry her.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Drawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for following Drawn this far! Penultimate chapter is here!</p><p>Much love!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Waverly pulled her legs tighter underneath herself on Jeremy’s couch, her fingers wrapped firmly around a steaming mug of tea. Her throat felt hoarse, and her cheeks stung with the salt of dried tears. It didn’t make sense. Nicole was </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> good, and now she was everything bad? Waverly desperately wanted the thought to be impossible, but she knew that the pieces fit. The officer had known that Waverly had power. She had been there, every time that Waverly had used it. The coffee shop, the car window, the tyre, the park… Waverly had been too wrapped up in her growing attraction to connect the dots. The tears fell freely once more as the words rang in her ears, louder every time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Haught is a hunter.</span>
  </em>
  <span> How could she have been so naive? How could the person in whom she had thought she’d found a pillar of safety, be the very thing that threatened her the most?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand how she can be a hunter, Jer.” Waverly sobbed, her tear filled eyes struggling to focus on her friend’s face as he sat beside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said she’s investigating the crimes though, Wave? She protected you, she's never hurt you. Maybe she's not what you think." Jeremy reached his arm around Waverly’s shoulders, pulling her into his side as he spoke, his calm, soft voice the only thing keeping the brunette grounded. “Besides… maybe I’m overstepping, but like you said, it’s looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty </span>
  </em>
  <span>damn likely that the violence we thought was the hunters, was Bobo Del Rey and the council.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, Salem and the trials…” Waverly protested. The word itself told her everything she needed to know. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hunter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were centuries ago, Waves,” Jeremy countered with a small shrug. “Just because something always was, doesn’t mean it always will be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A heavy knock on the door burst through the quiet of the room, Nicole’s soft cries of Waverly’s name following close behind it. The brunette’s blood ran cold. She shook her head desperately, begging Jeremy wordlessly not to let the officer in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Waverly, open the door. I just want to explain.” Nicole’s voice was muffled through the thick wooden door, but the strain of panic and desperation was still audible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I’m not saying you should lower your guard and forget this ever happened,” Jeremy spoke calmly, extracting himself from Waverly’s side as he moved toward the door. “But Nicole cares about you, whatever she is. Just hear her out, Wave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly stood as Jeremy opened the door, moving to put the couch between herself and Nicole as the officer entered the room. The redhead looked so broken, and Waverly’s guard shook, but the words still cried in her head and she couldn’t shake the trembling fear as she looked into the eyes she thought she’d known. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hunter.</span>
  </em>
  <span> In her peripheral vision she caught the movement as Jeremy backed towards the hallway door, his intent clear to give them some space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t go Jer, I’m…” She pleaded, her eyes flicking to Nicole’s, her heart splintering as she watched the pain sear in them. She dropped her voice, guilty on some level for the hurt she knew her words would cause her girlfriend. “I’m scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole’s lips trembled and she clenched her jaw, visibly fighting to hold back the tears that filled her eyes at Waverly’s words. She took a step backwards, giving Waverly more space, and the brunette’s confused heart tore. The woman standing before now was still everything that Waverly had believed she was; soft, and caring, and intuitive, and respectful. How could she be the monster? The </span>
  <em>
    <span>enemy</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Waverly’s fingers trembled, the fear still coursing through them, but she needed to understand. She dropped her eyes, turning to Jeremy, unable any longer to hold the gaze that only confused her more. Jeremy’s eyes searched her own, and she nodded softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be just outside, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the door closed behind him, Waverly forced herself to look up, to search the pale, drawn face of her girlfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waverly, please don’t be scared. I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> hurt you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole’s voice shook as she held back her tears, but there was no hesitation, and no uncertainty, and Waverly felt the reassurance ebb at the sparks of cold fear, despite herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I said I would always protect you, and I meant it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it true?” Waverly knew the answer, but she needed to hear Nicole say it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole blinked, the tears breaking the barrier of her control as she nodded softly. She opened her mouth to speak, but Waverly cut her off, her anger surging stronger than her fear as the truth took its hold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?” She spat, hot tears of fury filling her eyes. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>lied </span>
  </em>
  <span>to me, Nicole. I don’t - I don't even know who you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then please, let me tell you?” Nicole took a shaky step forwards, her eyes pleading in anguish. “If you want nothing to do with me afterwards then I understand, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Wave, let me explain? I-I can’t give this up without a fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly hesitated, her emotions warring in her mind for a moment before she nodded, folding her arms tightly across her chest. Her anger still pulsed beneath her skin, but she needed answers, and the sorrow in Nicole’s expression was making her head spin. Nicole exhaled sharply, relief flickering in her eyes, and she took an uncertain step closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bobo is right. I’m a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunter</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Nicole’s face screwed in contempt, the word spat in pained disgust, though a wistful sadness carried beneath the repulsion. “But that doesn’t mean what you think it means.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly furrowed her brows, her heart in her throat. The emotion on Nicole’s face and in her voice was so raw, so earnest that she couldn’t help but listen. She let her arms drop, her body instinctively lowering its guard just enough to let the words reach her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m descended from what people used to know as witch hunters, but that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>our intention. Quite the opposite!” Nicole chuckled shortly, but the humour didn’t reach her eyes. She moved towards the couch, and Waverly couldn’t help but notice the tremble in the officer’s muscles as she lowered herself down, gripping onto the edge of the cushions as she spoke.  “We call ourselves the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tarraingthe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Tarraingthe…” Waverly whispered, her stomach twisting as her mind made quick work of the translation, and she processed the information. “Th-the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Drawn</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole nodded, her eyes searching Waverly’s as the brunette moved slowly from behind the couch to stand before her, still hesitant to close the gap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For reasons no-one has ever confirmed, although it’s suspected that it derives from a weaker line of the mixed blood...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole paused, her breath hitching and her eyes softening with relief as Waverly stepped closer, lowering herself cautiously onto the couch as she listened intently, the gears whirring in her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We-we're particularly susceptible to power. We’re drawn to it, it pulls us.” She shrugged softly, her eyes filling with grief as they dropped from Waverly’s gaze. “Which means we can unmistakably identify witches. Often without meaning to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly could physically feel the pain and the sorrow and the remorse that radiated from Nicole’s entire body as the officer winced, her eyes closing for a moment as she tried to compose herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Years of accidentally sending witches to the stake is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> something it’s easy to apologise for.” Nicole chuckled humourlessly, her voice breaking as she turned her eyes back to Waverly’s, a pained determination flashing through them. “But that’s kind of where Black Badge started. Trying to undo the mess we’d made by driving witches into hiding. But these massacres, Wave, and the violence - that’s not us. It’s never been us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wavery’s mind raced, the words tumbling over each other as she tried to untangle her thoughts. Despite every primal instinct that had triggered her fear, she felt her shoulders drop and her resolve crumble. This made sense. This made </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> sense, and although she still felt wary, she could feel the slow relief begin to creep its way through her veins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Black Badge is all Tarraingthe?” She barely recognised her own voice, the steady tone emotionless as she fought to keep her guard up. She needed to be sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not all. Some are Tarraingthe, a few are witches, and some are non magical.” Nicole turned on the couch, twisting to face Waverly, the body language open and honest. “I was recruited because of my Tarraingthe blood. Like I said before, we’ve been trying to find a shield and get to the gates, to end this once and for all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You knew I was a witch.” Waverly’s voice trembled, her emotions yo-yoing. She could feel her resolve crumbling faster than she had anticipated, but she still had so many questions, and she needed to hold onto her guard until she had her answers. “You tracked my powers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know I was doing it, Wave. Not to start with.” The guilt was back in Nicole’s eyes, the plea in her voice chipping further at Waverly’s fragile resolve. “I was transferred here because the number of murders had spiked so dramatically around the Purgatory area, and we had reason to believe the council were looking for someone. It was my job to find the power, detect the presence of the council, and protect those in danger. So when I sensed power, I followed it.” She blushed, dropping her gaze to her hands with a small abashed smile. “It took me an embarrassingly long time to realise it was you, because you completely disarmed and distracted me every god damn time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> charm me right now, Haught, I’m still ultra pissed at you.” Waverly bit back the grin that threatened to break the last of her ebbing anger, but she knew her voice was softer and her eyes would give her away. “Why didn’t you just tell me this? Why did you lie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to.” Nicole reached her hands out, her eyes drifting to Waverly’s own, clasped in her lap, before she seemed to think better of it, dropping them to the couch and picking absently at a loose thread as she continued. “I’ve wanted to so many times but I worked myself into such a state. I was too scared to lose you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if you’d just explained, I would have understood, I would have...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wave, Tarraingthe and witches, it’s just not heard of.” Nicole cut her off, her voice strained. “We’ve been your natural </span>
  <em>
    <span>enemies</span>
  </em>
  <span>, however unnecessary, since long before you or I or anyone we know was born. I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry that I lied to you Waverly, I truly am, but I was so scared. When you thought that hunters had been responsible for those murders, I…" She paused, closing her eyes, shaking her head as a pained expression crossed her face. "I was scared that you would hear the word and run, and I would lose the best thing that has ever happened to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly’s heart hammered so hard in her chest that it ached. It scared her how easily her guard had fallen, how quickly she had trusted every word that left her girlfriend’s lips, and she choked back a sobbed chuckle as she considered that maybe she hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>stopped</span>
  </em>
  <span> trusting her. Even in those dark moments of fear, she hadn’t truly stopped. Nicole’s eyes held nothing but honesty, and she knew the officer cared. But as she searched anxious mocha eyes, a new fear pushed its way into the forefront of her racing mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This… this is why you’re drawn to me.” Waverly swallowed thickly, her chest tightening as the realisation swept over her. “It’s-it’s not for me. Not for who I am, it's this. My power. Yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waverly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Nicole surged forwards, her hands finding the brunette’s, all hesitation forgotten in her need to reassure; to make Waverly understand. “No. We </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> drawn, yes, but that only means that we can sense power.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly sniffed as Nicole linked her fingers between her own, her thumbs stroking circles over the back of the brunette’s hands. Passion filled eyes bore into her own, and she felt her stomach flip at the strength of the emotion she could see within them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t mean that the air leaves our lungs when that person catches our eye, Wave. It doesn’t mean that we think about that person every minute of every day, and it certainly does not mean that we would literally lay our last breath on the line to make that person smile.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly blinked back her tears, her shoulders dropping as the warmth of Nicole’s words sank into her veins, pooling into beating butterflies low in her stomach. The officer took a shaky breath, her lips curling into a shy smile as she shrugged, her words so soft they were almost whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being </span>
  <em>
    <span>drawn </span>
  </em>
  <span>isn't making me fall in love, Waverly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly’s heart thudded in her chest, the warmth swelling so hard she felt like it could burst. She giggled, no longer able to muster the energy to fight her own emotions. It was a lot to take in, and she knew they had more to overcome, but right now she trusted every word Nicole had told her, and she could no longer deny that she needed her girlfriend’s arms to make the night’s pain fade. She shuffled herself forwards, bringing her forehead to rest against Nicole’s, her hands sliding gently over the redhead’s jaw. The elated look of relief on her girlfriend’s face, and the soft exhale as she wrapped her arms around Waverly’s waist tugged firmly on the brunette’s heartstrings, and she grinned as she slipped a hand into red hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Never</span>
  </em>
  <span> lie to me again, Haught.” Waverly pulled Nicole closer, the redhead’s parted lips trembling as her words ghosted over them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole’s whispered words were swallowed as Waverly claimed her lips with her own, pouring every ounce of the day’s emotion into the deepest kiss she could muster. The heat surged instantly under Waverly’s skin; a burning, desperate need for Nicole to make her </span>
  <em>
    <span>forget</span>
  </em>
  <span>. To make her forget Bobo Del Rey’s steely grey eyes; forget the glowing lines of the violent symbol on his arm; forget the searing pain of the scores on her chest, and the helpless fear as she watched, frozen. To make her forget, more than anything, the dark hours in which she had believed the touch of the woman she loved could hurt her. She needed that touch now, to remind her just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> it could feel. She pressed herself as close as she could to Nicole’s body, their moans of desire tangling together as Waverly’s tongue curled deep into the redhead’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby…” She broke away, her breath falling heavy as she looked into darkened, dilated eyes, filled with hunger. “Take me home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Waverly cried out, her legs wrapped around Nicole’s waist, the redhead’s thrusting fingers pulling her apart as she pinned her against the back of the bedroom door. They’d made it as far as the edge of the couch, Waverly’s body suspended over the arm as Nicole’s fingers melted her bones. Then they’d managed halfway up the stairs, before Nicole’s knees dropped two steps below Waverly’s, her tongue immediately seeking wet heat. Waverly’s body trembled and she clutched one hand at Nicole’s shoulders and the other at the door frame as her third orgasm ripped through her, the hunger not even close to being sated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her back hit the bed, the warm support of the mattress below a welcome surprise, having not even noticed the redhead move them. Nicole collapsed into Waverly's neck, her breath hot and heavy against her skin, her hips grinding instinctively against the brunette’s thigh pressed between her legs. Nicole laughed openly, shaking her head as Waverly clenched her fist, ridding both of them of the last scraps of clothing clinging to their sweat sheened bodies. Waverly gripped Nicole’s hips, pressing her thigh up into burning heat as she encouraged her girlfriend’s grind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nic,” Waverly moaned. “I need…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> baby, what do you need?” Nicole’s words stuttered, interspersed with broken moans as she rocked her hips faster over Waverly’s thigh, her hands moving to the brunette’s hips for leverage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what you’re doing now.” Waverly murmured, her eyes transfixed on the undeniably sexy roll of the redhead’s hips, and the way the muscles of her stomach clenched above them. “But on my tongue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole’s breath exhaled in a deep, guttural groan, her lower lip gripped firmly between her teeth as she ground her hips harder, her hand flying to the front of Waverly’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get up here.” Waverly’s voice dropped low, the demand almost a growl. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat flared stronger than ever between Waverly’s legs as Nicole’s wide eyes blackened with arousal, and her flushed, swollen lips parted. The grip around Waverly’s neck tightened </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> enough to notice before it was gone, and blunt nails dragged down over the brunette’s chest. Nicole smirked as she lifted herself up, her knees straddling either side of Waverly’s head, and the brunette couldn’t hold back her groans as she took in the sight of her girlfriend’s body over her; the curves of her breasts teasing over the flat of her stomach, and the wet, swollen desire just close enough to touch. Waverly’s hands slid over Nicole’s ass to pull her closer, her tongue sweeping the lines of need at the top of the redhead’s thighs, the taste of her girlfriend’s arousal sending her eyes rolling back.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby…” Waverly husked, feeling her core throb as Nicole looked down at her, her pupils blown as she lowered herself closer, Waverly’s lips brushing the heated flesh as she murmured her command. “Ride me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swept her tongue over Nicole’s clit, her own core clenching with need as the redhead sobbed, one hand gripping at the headboard and the other at her own breast as she started to grind slowly over the brunette’s waiting mouth. Waverly hummed in appreciation, the vibrations drawing a trembling groan from Nicole's lips as the brunette’s hands roamed every inch of skin she could reach; her thighs and her stomach and her breasts. Waverly flattened her tongue, circling it to match the speed of Nicole’s grind, feeling the bud of her girlfriend’s clit start to throb against her as her moans grew shorter and sharper. Nicole’s hand flew from her own breast to Waverly’s hair, gripping her in place as her eyes slammed shut and her jaw dropped open, her stomach clenching and her thighs trembling as she fought to hold herself upright. Waverly smirked, her own lust like fire in her veins as she brought her fingers to Nicole’s entrance, the pitch of the redhead’s moans getting higher as she teased small circles around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span> fuck yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> yes.” Nicole’s words slurred, mumbled between moans as she ground down, desperately trying to push Waverly’s fingers where she needed them most.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly let her own moans fall freely, closing her lips over Nicole’s clit as the rock of her hips grew erratic. She held out, teasing circles over Nicole’s core for just a beat longer, before sliding her fingers in hard, angling them just so to hit the spot she knew her girlfriend needed. The redhead fell forward with a guttural groan, both hands gripping at the headboard, her forehead pressed against the wall as she bucked her hips. Waverly kept her fingers buried deep, flicking the tips forward with increasing speed as Nicole’s moans grew louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Waverly</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole’s broken, hoarse groan of her name clenched in Waverly’s heated core, and she pressed her thighs together to stem the ache as her girlfriend started to fall apart around her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, Waverly, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come, baby, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’m…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole’s words were barely coherent, trailing off into a silent, strained groan of release as her muscles clenched around Waverly’s fingers, her clit pulsing against the brunette’s tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jumbled murmurs of unintelligible sounds escaped Nicole’s lips as she slid herself down, Waverly’s fingers following the movement, still buried inside. The brunette smirked as she picked out variations of her own name from the intangible murmurs as Nicole buried her face in Waverly’s neck, her hands fisting in the pillow either side of her head, her hips still jolting forward with the aftershocks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly pushed her hips forward, rolling her girlfriend over onto her back. She connected their lips in a soft, lingering kiss, her fingers still drawing lazy circles inside the redhead’s core. She could feel the muscles start to tense again around her fingers, and she flicked her wrist, determined to coax her name from her girlfriend’s lips once more. Nicole broke from the kiss with a gasp, her nails gripping at Waverly’s back. Her eyes rolled back as Waverly curled her fingers, softly teasing the hyper sensitive spot that she knew would break the redhead down. She kept her movements slow, restrained, focused, knowing how sensitive the pulsing flesh beneath her touch was. Only when Nicole’s grip on her back grew firmer and her hips pressed forward to seek more contact, did Waverly pull back, driving her fingers home with devastating force. Nicole cried out, her legs flailing against the mattress as Waverly fucked her slowly, hard, the palm of her hand hitting her clit with every thrust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Nicole’s trembling body crashed around her once more, Waverly gripped her hips, flipping her over onto her stomach. The hunger tonight was insatiable, and she had no intention of stopping until the searing need burned down to embers. She trailed her tongue over Nicole’s back, biting at the top of her shoulders and the back of her neck as goosebumps raised below her lips. She ran a finger down Nicole’s spine, not stopping until she reached wet heat, circling her clit, then slipping it easily into her still clenching core. She leaned forwards, husking her command into her whimpering girlfriend’s ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On your knees, baby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tinny sound of Beyonce tore Nicole from her sleep, her mind blanking for a hazy moment before she registered the disturbance as Waverly’s alarm. She chuckled, wrapping her arm tighter around the brunette’s chest, her leg thrown haphazardly over her waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>," She murmured, her voice thick with the remnants of a deep sleep. She felt a  slow, lopsided grin spread across her own face as the brunette giggled, reaching to switch off the alarm before Nicole pulled her back. She nuzzled her face into the back of Waverly’s neck, her sleepy words hummed against her girlfriend’s warm skin. "S'comfy. Don't go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole sighed contentedly, her body waking beneath Waverly’s hands as they began to roam the exposed skin of her thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She cracked her eyes open, her grin widening as Waverly turned in her arms, her roaming hands moving to trail lazy fingers over her back. Nicole leaned forwards, catching Waverly’s smiling lips in a soft kiss, humming in surprise as the brunette deepened it instantly, the movements slow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> can’t go." Nicole pressed her forehead against Waverly’s, hearing the low gravel in her own voice, traces of sleep mixed with new sparks of arousal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have to get ready for work. I'll make you coffee…" Waverly grinned, her voice far too cheery for the early hour as she sang her words in an effort to coax Nicole awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But the great thing about dating a witch…" Nicole grinned, leaning to plant soft kisses along the column of Waverly’s throat, murmuring her words against her pulse point. "Is that you can do that from </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know, I'm starting to think you only want me for my powers, Haught." Waverly grinned, her mock scold cut off with a groan as Nicole bit down gently over her pulse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lies</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Nicole grinned, biting back a laugh as her fingers trailed slowly over Waverly’s stomach, over her abs until they reached the curve of her breast, teasing feather light circles over her nipple. "I want you for your body."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole giggled as Waverly laughed openly, slapping her hands on the front of the redhead’s shoulders and shoving her back. She rolled onto her back as Waverly straddled her, her heart rate quickening as the brunette leaned in, her hushed words hot against her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well if we get up now, you can </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> my body in the shower."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waverly punctuated her promise with the trace of her tongue over the shell of Nicole’s ear, and the redhead shuddered, heat pooling rapidly between her thighs. She blinked, her lust hazed mind struggling to keep up as Waverly’s warmth disappeared, the brunette up and across the room before Nicole could process what had happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole grinned as Waverly leaned in the doorway of the en suite bathroom, quirking an eyebrow as she beckoned with her finger before slipping into the room and out of the redhead’s sight. Nicole scrambled from the bed, tripping over the blankets in her haste, blushing as she heard Waverly’s laugh ring out from the bathroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂        </span>
  
  <span>꧁꧂</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nicole closed the lid over the steaming liquid </span>
  <span>filling her PPD flask, placing the tea on the counter by the door alongside Waverly’s bag. She knew the brunette didn't need it, her powers leaving the gesture fairly moot, but Nicole couldn't help but feel somewhat guilty for how late her girlfriend now was for work, having sobbed her name into the bathroom tiles until the water had run cold. She could hear Waverly scurrying about above her, and she glanced anxiously at the clock as the brunette’s footsteps finally sounded on the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole stepped back, leaning against the counter as Waverly whirled into the kitchen, her cheeks still flushed and her lips still swollen with Nicole's kiss, as she hastily gathered her things. Her arms full, she raced to Nicole’s side, planting a hurried kiss on her cheek, before racing out the door, shouting her goodbyes behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole chuckled as she heard the jeep door slam, and the chug of the engine as it sputtered to life. She shook her head, pushing down the unnecessary niggling disappointment that she hadn't gotten a proper kiss goodbye. It was her own fault, after all. She grinned, the recent memories heating under her skin as they flashed through her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned back to the counter and reached for the kettle, jumping as the doorbell rang unexpectedly. She could still hear the chug of the jeep's engine, and she chuckled as she padded out to open the door, knowing exactly who she would find on the other side. She smirked as she pulled the door open, her gaze falling on her girlfriend’s flustered face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You forget some…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole’s words were cut off as Waverly’s hands gripped the front of her robe and tugged her in close, her lips claiming the redhead’s in a searing kiss that sent electricity shooting through her veins. She bit her lip as Waverly pulled back, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she backed down the porch steps towards her jeep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Miss you already." Waverly winked, blowing Nicole a kiss as she climbed into the driver's seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole’s heart pounded as she closed the door behind her, her dimples aching with the beaming grin that she couldn’t even try to suppress. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was in love with that girl, and she knew it. She almost floated back to the kitchen, her body humming with contented bliss as she busied herself with her coffee. She jumped again as a short, sharp rap sounded against the front door, and she furrowed her brows. She could no longer hear the jeep and the knock sounded unfamiliar. She padded out to the door, tugging her robe tight around her as she pulled the handle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man's eyes were cold, empty as they glared up at her from below the rim of a black panama hat, and the hairs on Nicole’s neck stood on end as she surveyed the sinister, tight lipped grimace on the scarred, drawn face. She could feel the power rippling below the stranger's skin, and the air around him felt dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nicole </span>
  <em>
    <span>Haught</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of her own name was threatening on his lips, his voice a low, sickening rasp that grated in Nicole’s ears; nails to a chalkboard. He stepped forward, his thin lips twisting into a scornful smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who's asking?" Nicole kept her voice hard, pushing her fears down as she stood her ground, leaning her hands on opposite sides of the doorframe; a barricade that she knew stood for nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My name," the man rasped, "is Bulshar Clootie."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole's heart stopped, her blood ice in her veins and her pulse thudding in her ears. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She clenched her fists, her muscles tensing as she fought the overwhelming cold fear that threatened to take control of her mind and her body. She knew she was in danger. She was unarmed, her cuffs were out of reach, and she had no way to call for back-up. She took a deep breath, standing tall as she stepped forward. If she was going out, she was doing it with a fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you want?" She hissed, her wary eyes searching Bulshar's body for signs of his trigger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> Waverly Levine…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Waverly </span>
  <em>
    <span>Earp</span>
  </em>
  <span> is not here," Nicole spat, anger fuelling her fire as the name pulled at her protective nature. "And you will not lay a finger on..</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want Waverly Levine." Bulshar cut her off, his voice dropping lower. The tone carried boredom, disinterest, and that alone was enough to draw beads of sweat from Nicole’s palms, without the words that followed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want the hunters. And I want Black Badge." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicole swallowed thickly. The derisive scorn in his voice, the boredom in his eyes, and the way that they seemed to look straight through her, rang all the alarm bells in the officer’s mind, and she felt her heart rate start to soar as she realised she had no way out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And to help me </span>
  <em>
    <span>get</span>
  </em>
  <span> those things," Bulshar  continued, raising a leather clad hand up in front of Nicole’s face. "I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sinister words, and the subtle twitch of black leather fingers swam in Nicole’s mind, the last conscious thing to cross her awareness, before her world faded to black.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Called</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We have reached the end of Part 1 for this fic!</p><p>Huge thank you for reading and for your feedback, it's been amazing. This does have a Part 2 planned, though currently it is not written. Watch this space, I will work on it soon!</p><p>Please do let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Waverly hummed distractedly, a blissed out smile pulling at her cheeks as she stared unseeing at her computer screen, the words nothing but a jumble of pixels. She had tried so hard to focus on her work, but all she could think about was Nicole. She knew deep down that the fight wasn't won; that while Black Badge had secured Bobo, the threat of Domhan Draiocht and the removal of her powers was far from over. Was likely now <em> worse </em> , in fact, and on top of that, she still didn't fully understand her visions. But the endorphins rushing through her blood were making her giddy, and it all just felt so <em> distant </em> compared to the way the heat licked at her chest and between her legs when she thought of Nicole, and those mocha eyes, and dimpled smile, and full lips, and the things those lips could <em> do </em> under the blanket of the darkness.</p><p>"Oh my god, <em> Waverly</em>!" </p><p>The brunette jumped, Wynonna's panicked voice jarring through her daydreams as her sister burst through the office door, rushing to throw her arms around Waverly. </p><p>"Thank god you’re okay. <em> Jesus</em>, Babygirl, why haven't you been answering your phone? Where is Haught? Please tell me she's with you."</p><p>"What? Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Waverly’s stomach dropped, the hairs on her arms standing on end as she took in the fear in her sister’s eyes and the strain in her voice. “Nicole’s at work, Wynonna what's wrong?"</p><p>“<em>Shit.” </em>Wynonna’s eyes closed for a fleeting moment, her fists clenching in anxious agitation. "When did you last hear from her?"</p><p>"I left her just a few hours ago, <em> why </em>?” Waverly stood, her stomach twisting, sweat beginning to prickle at her palms. “Wynonna please tell me what's happening. Is Nicole okay?"</p><p>"That's what I'm trying to find out." Wynonna grimaced, pulling her phone from her back pocket. "She didn't show for work, so I went to her house to find her and the door was open. Her car is still in the drive, her keys and her phone are on the side… but she isn't there, Babygirl.”</p><p>Waverly blinked, the words swimming in her ears, her mind refusing to process their meaning. Not there? No. Nicole was fine. Of <em> course </em>she was fine, how could she not be fine? She shook her head as she searched her sister’s face, desperate for signs that she'd misunderstood somehow. That this was nothing but a prank.</p><p>“It gets worse.” Wynonna handed her phone to Waverly, the screen lit with a photo of the front of Nicole’s house. "This was carved in the porch."</p><p>"Oh my <em> god </em> Wynonna they have her.” Waverly whimpered, fear and fury gripping every one of her muscles as she cast her eyes over the familiar symbol, charred lines burned into the wood of the porch deck, the low glow of embers visible even in the bright light of the morning. “Jesus, why didn’t you <em> lead </em>with this?" </p><p>"We need to call Black Badge." Wynonna muttered, pulling her phone back and pacing anxiously as she punched the numbers into the keypad.</p><p>"We don't have time to wait for them, Wynonna, we need to save Nicole. I need Nicole, Wy, I need her safe, <em> please.</em>"</p><p>Waverly gripped the edge of her desk, her head spinning and vision blurring as the nausea swept over her. Her blood pooled ice cold in her stomach, and her chest tightened. The air felt darker somehow, and she couldn’t breathe. <em> Nicole had to be okay. </em> The alternative was not an option. She snapped into focus as Wynonna’s hands settled on her shoulders, bringing her back to her senses. She sniffed, tears of desperation welling as she looked into fearful, but determined blue eyes.</p><p>"We get in, we get Haught, we get out.” Wynonna’s voice was calm and authoritative, its tone grounding Waverly, and the brunette nodded. “Then Black Badge can take them down. We’re not there to play the hero, okay?" </p><p>Waverly nodded, throwing her arms around her sister and squeezing tightly. She sniffed, wiping her tears on the back of her sleeve as she composed herself.</p><p>"Right,” Wynonna turned, striding briskly towards the door, Waverly scurrying behind her. “Where is this place?"</p><p>"I…” Waverly halted, her heart sinking. Despair gripped in her chest, and her voice broke as she whispered her confession. “I don't know."</p><p>"Are you fucking <em> kidding </em> me?" Wynonna’s eyes widened in incredulity as she spun back to face her sister. "You learn you're a witch with access to this magical world and you've never bothered to find out where it is?"</p><p>“It’s never really been painted as a vacation destination, I’ve spent more time trying to avoid it,” Waverly protested, her fingers shaking as she pulled Jeremy’s number up on her phone. She paced the floor, her agitation building as she waited for her friend to answer. </p><p><em>"Jeremy…</em>” Waverly’s relief was audible in her voice, and she could almost feel her friend tense on the other end of the line as he registered the urgency. “I need you to take me to Domhan Draiocht. Now."</p><p>Waverly paced the floor, mumbling frantically as she tried to piece together some kind of plan. This was well and truly out of her comfort zone, and Wynonna’s agitated fidgeting as she sat, swinging her legs from the edge of Waverly’s desk, was doing nothing to quell her own anxieties. She glanced at the clock. It had been fifteen minutes since Jeremy had told her he was on his way, and four hours since she had left Nicole alone this morning. That was too much time. She shuddered, fighting hard against the horrifying thoughts that forced their way into her mind. A shriek behind her made her jump, and she turned to find a sheepish Jeremy stood quietly beside a flustered Wynonna.</p><p>"<em>Jesus </em> , dude, wear a <em> bell </em> or something," Wynonna snapped, her cheeks flushed as she pressed a hand to her chest.</p><p>Jeremy shrugged guiltily, and Wynonna shook her head, pushing him aside as she jumped up from the desk, clasping her hands together pointedly as she strolled toward the door.</p><p>"Right come on, what are we waiting for, lead the way."</p><p>"I... Wynonna,” Jeremy called after her, shrinking back nervously as she spun back to face him. He rubbed timidly at the back of his neck, his eyes fixed on his shoes as he mumbled his words. “Domhan Draiocht... it-it's not safe for non magical people."</p><p>"Bullshit,” Wynonna snapped, gesturing towards her belt. “I've got a big ass gun, I can take this snake."</p><p>"Wynonna…" Waverly pleaded, stepping forward to take her sister’s hands as blue eyes found her own. "He’s right. I can't let someone else I love get hurt because of me. Please, I'm not a little kid anymore. I can do this."</p><p>"I don't doubt it for a second Babygirl, but that’s not what this is about. However dangerous that shithole is for me, we can multiply that by every number on the planet and we still won’t touch how bad it must be for the Drawn." Wynonna blushed, dropping her gaze to the floor. "Haught is the best friend I've ever had.” She shrugged, trying her best to sound nonchalant, but the clear flicker of emotion in her misty eyes betrayed the earnest truth in her words. “You can bet my last donut I'm coming to save her annoying-as-all-fuck ass. Dangerous or not."</p><p>Waverly chuckled softly. She knew there was no way she was talking Wynonna out of this, and a small, selfish part of her was glad she would have her sister by her side to face whatever waited for her in the unknown. She nodded, stepping back as she prepared herself to follow Jeremy.</p><p>“Right, now that’s sorted...” Wynonna eyeballed Jeremy, gesturing pointedly toward the door.  ”Where the fuck <em> is </em> Haught-Stuff?"<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>꧁꧂        ꧁꧂        ꧁꧂        </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Waverly was quiet as Jeremy led them through the snow covered woodlands, muttering under his breath as he examined his surroundings, making sharp turns every now and then that would feel completely spontaneous if he didn’t seem so deeply focused on the trees around them. The air felt stranger to Waverly, the deeper into the forest they wove. Something seemed to prickle beneath her skin; something deep that seemed to connect to the very breeze around her. The skies felt greyer here, the air thicker, and the trees <em> familiar </em> somehow, in a way that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but she had a sneaking suspicion she had seen the very branches in her dreams. She closed her eyes as Jeremy halted for a moment, familiar sandy hair and blue eyes seeping immediately into her brain. </p><p><em> It was easy in the air here; effortless to call her visions, and she found her mind relaxing; opening as she drifted. The land around her in her mind’s eye mirrored the trees and the snow of the woods she stood in, and he stood directly before her. He didn’t run this time. Didn’t speak. He simply watched. Listened. </em> </p><p>Jeremy’s voice tore her from her reverie and she snapped back to focus, gasping as they stepped into a wide clearing, and her eyes took in the looming sight before them. Tall, winding stairs sat in the centre of the icy clearing, the aged grey stone clear of snow, despite the blanket that covered the trees and the ground around them. The structure was solid, though the broken archways that ran beneath the steps gave the impact of old abbey ruins, and the moss lining the cracks in the stone were brighter than any green that could usually be seen in the harsh ice of the winter. The stairs wound gradually, leading up to a stone archway that teetered on the edge of the structure.  </p><p>“Well, this is unnecessarily extra.” </p><p>Wynonna’s blunt voice broke through Waverly’s trance, and she shook her head, chuckling softly at her sister’s skepticism.</p><p>"So wait a little minute.” Wynonna pulled a hip flask from her pocket, unscrewing the cap and lifting it to her lips as she eyed the stairs warily. “You're telling me there is an ancient world where everything is named in old Irish and someone from every witching family on the planet lives there…" She took a long gulp, barely wincing as the alcohol hit her throat. "And it’s in fucking <em> Purgatory </em>?"</p><p>"Don't flatter yourself,” Jeremy scoffed, rolling his eyes with a grin. “It’s a portal, they have them everywhere."</p><p>“Well,” Wynonna shrugged, pushing the hip flask back into her pocket as she took a shaky step toward the bottom stair. “What are we waiting for?”</p><p>“Wynonna, wait…” Waverly caught her sister’s arm, tugging her back. She took a deep breath, searching blue eyes, trying to convey the words she couldn’t find. She held her breath as the understanding crossed through Wynonna’s eyes and she hesitated, the internal battle playing out on her face before finally she nodded, stepping back to allow Waverly to ascend before her.</p><p>Waverly’s heart pounded in her throat as she took the first step, her snow covered boots clearing with their first contact with the ancient stone. The ground beneath her seemed to surge, pulsing in her veins with every shaky step she took. She took a deep breath, blowing the tension out through her cheeks as she reached the top, the large stone archway looming above her head. She glanced back, her chest warming as her eyes met first Wynonna’s, and then Jeremy’s, both mere steps behind her on the winding staircase. She screwed her eyes tightly shut, exhaled sharply, and forced her fear ridden body into the archway.</p><p>Cold. The first thing that registered in Waverly’s brain as the spinning in her head stopped and she came to her senses, was that it was <em> really </em> god damn cold. She opened her eyes, blinking in disorientation as she tried to make sense of the world around her. Everything was white. The sky was white, and the snow seemed brighter here than it did in the forests of Purgatory. The trees and the archway they had come through were gone, a large red door in its place behind them. Waverly turned on the spot, gasping as she took in the thousands of identical red doors that stretched behind her far as her eyes could see; the only things that stood out in the sea of white. She felt Wynonna’s hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face her sister, her stomach dropping at the look of raw, unbridled terror in her eyes. She followed her gaze, her stomach twisting and her blood running cold as she found its focus, and her feet carried her of their own accord as she rushed towards the scene before her.</p><p>Nicole stood alone in the emptiness. Her face was pale and the robe she had been wearing when Waverly had left this morning was torn and shredded. Her eyes were closed, her arms were outstretched and her wrists hung limply as though they were bound by something Waverly couldn’t see. </p><p>“<em>Nicole,”  </em>Waverly cried, her voice strained with desperation as she willed her legs to move faster.</p><p>Nicole’s eyes flew open at the sound of Waverly’s voice, and the brunette could see the pained expression even from the distance as she pounded her feet through the snow. The officer’s arms flailed, tugging against the invisible binds, and Waverly’s heart stopped in her chest. Blue wisps of light tugged against Nicole’s flesh where she moved, like twisted vines of electricity that ripped into the material of her robe as she struggled against them. Her face contorted in agony as the vines licked wounds into her skin, and she opened her mouth to scream. Waverly sobbed, her cry muted in her throat as she watched the blue vines lock between her girlfriend’s lips, binding her silent.</p><p>She pushed her legs faster, her feet stumbling in the powdery snow. Nicole was just yards from her now, and she could see the hours of pain and exhaustion in the muted brown of her eyes. As she neared, Nicole’s eyes widened, and she strained against the binds, tears streaming down her face as she battled against the pain, shaking her head as she tried desperately to convey her message. </p><p>
  <em> Stop. </em>
</p><p>Waverly slowed, her brows furrowing. She could feel Wynonna and Jeremy halt behind her, and something shifted in the air around them. She took a shaky step forward, searching the pleading look on her girlfriend’s drawn face for clues. She could feel the danger rippling over her skin, but the threat was hidden and her heart beat faster in her chest as she crept warily forward.</p><p>Waverly gasped, tensing in anticipation as four looming figures appeared in the space that had lain between herself and Nicole. It was like the fall of a curtain, drawing Waverly’s breath with it as it dropped. Four figures, their black clothes like shadows against the blinding white of the snow and the skies. She recognised John Henry, and flanking him were a redheaded female and a dark haired male with similar features; twins if Waverly were to hazard a guess. Slightly in front was a man, and the hairs on Waverly’s neck bristled as he stepped forward, and she felt the aura of power that surged around him. She knew in an instant; could <em> feel </em> who he was. <em> Bulshar Clootie.  </em></p><p>“Nice of you to join us, Waverly.” Bulshar smirked as he stepped closer still, his disinterested eyes roaming past Waverly, scanning Wynonna and Jeremy stood close behind her. “<em>This </em> is your back up? The <em> hunter </em>not worth Black Badge’s time?” </p><p>He flicked his hand over his shoulder to punctuate his question; an indifferent motion that lit the officer’s body with wisps of blue, tears streaming down her contorted face as the vines lashed over her skin, wrapping tightly around her chest.  </p><p>“<em>Haught! </em>” </p><p>Wynonna's hoarse scream drowned Waverly’s own and she surged forward, her pistol cocked and pointed before Waverly could stop her. Bulshar's thin lips curled in bemusement, and he flicked his hand disdainfully. Bolts of blue fire shot from Bulshar's leather clad fingers, hurtling through the air towards Wynonna's chest, twisting as they travelled like the vines that clung to Nicole’s flesh. Before Waverly could react, John had tipped his hat, gripping hold of Wynonna’s body. The bolts of blue pierced the air a hair's width from Wynonna’s chest as her body was flung sideways, landing softly in the snow. Waverly jolted, the urge to run to her sister bested only by the fear and the fury mixing in her chest as Bulshar turned his attention back to her, taking another step closer as his cold eyes searched her face in sinister intrigue. Behind his drawn face she could see the weakening body of her girlfriend, mocha eyes dulling as the pain controlled her, and she knew she was running out of time.</p><p>“What do you want, Bulshar?” She steadied her voice, keeping her tone low. She squared her shoulders in an effort to stand tall as she stepped forward, meeting her challenge in the middle. “What will it take for you to let her go?”</p><p>“I want you to see sense, Levine." Bulshar smirked. "You’ve had too many chances. This is your last one.”</p><p>Waverly’s heart pounded as her eyes flicked over the scene around her. Nicole was hurt; weakened and in danger, and Wynonna was defenseless in a world of power when she had none. Jeremy stood close by her side, but she knew that between them they were no match for four powerful witches with experience and malice on their side. She <em> needed </em> Nicole to be safe, and she knew she would lay everything on the line to make sure her sister, her best friend, and her girlfriend walked away from this alive. She swallowed thickly, steeling herself as she made her decision. </p><p>“If I come with you, the others are free to go? All of them?"</p><p>Waverly's chest constricted as she watched Nicole struggle once more, the blue vines flashing as they bound and gagged her. She was wide eyed, shaking her head vigorously despite the wraps of blue that tore at her hair and her jaw. She was getting weaker, and Waverly could see that the more she fought, the more the power seemed to drain her. Beads of blood dropped from her nose, and the sight of the red on the white of the snow sent blood curdling shivers down Waverly’s spine.</p><p>"Nicole, <em> stop! </em> " She cried, desperation gripping her stomach, her voice catching in her throat. "Okay, Bulshar, I'll come. Just <em> please,</em> let her go."</p><p>“Waverly, it’s a trick." Wynonna's voice shouted out behind her, and she heard the thud of boots on the snow as her sister ran to reach her. "<em>Don’t. </em>"</p><p>Before Waverly could respond, Bulshar had given the command. She screamed, her fingers twitched in preparation as he beckoned silently to the twins, who began to move towards Wynonna. Waverly clenched her fist, aiming to shield her sister, but the witches were faster, blocking her power quicker than she could process what had happened. She moved to race towards them, but before she could place one foot forward, the air thickened around her in a familiar darkness, and she knew she needed to fight immediately. <em> Seconds </em>. She had seconds before Bulshar's power would render her paralysed, the burning pain would start, and the life would begin to seep from her body as her power was taken. She clenched her fist, drawing a forcefield around herself, her fingers trembling with effort as Bulshar's power fought against her own.</p><p>In her peripheral vision she was aware of Jeremy jumping in front of Wynonna, using his powers to swipe the dark haired witch's legs from beneath him, leaving the man sprawled momentarily on the floor. Jeremy's attention moved to the female, his power sending ice and snow up into her eyes. Wynonna’s frustrated voice rang behind him, urging him to fight dirtier; to aim to hurt.</p><p>Waverly’s force field crumbled, her focus snapping back to Bulshar as his eyes flashed red, vivid fury flooding through them. Bolts of blue shot through the air, daggers that hurtled towards Waverly and she used her power to deflect each one. She followed Bulshar's movements as he circled her, their eyes transfixed on the other's movements as they fought. Waverly shot back, twisting green vines of her own wrapped around Bulshar's wrists, his roar of pain both satisfying and horrifying to her ears.</p><p>She kept her fist clenched, using everything she had to keep the vines held as her eyes searched for her sister. She watched, bile rising in her throat as her eyes landed on Jeremy, his body sprawled across the floor as he fought off both twins, his energy clearly waning. She watched helplessly as John moved swiftly toward them, coming to a halt as he loomed above them. Waverly held her breath as he pulled back his fist, then drove forward, raining down punches that the brunette couldn’t see but she could hear; crunching impact and muffled groans. She exhaled a sigh of relief as Jeremy jumped up, revealing John locked in battle with the unknown male as Jeremy moved to tackle the female, Wynonna egging him on behind them.</p><p>She didn't have the time to question John's motive. Bulshar had broken her hold, and he circled her maliciously as he fired at her, forcing her to exhaust her power deflecting the shots. She steeled her focus, channelling her energy into bouncing Bulshar's shots back at him, the force of his own power driving him backwards.</p><p>Behind them, a jolt of the female's power sent Jeremy's body flying to the ground. His chest still heaved, but his eyes were closed and his muscles hung limp. Wynonna's cry rang out as she rushed forward, hooking her hands under his arms and dragging him over her shoulders, her gun pointed out as she stumbled backwards towards the sea of red doors, seeking safety. The redheaded female smirked, raising her hand to fire after them, but the shot never came. John's power gripped the woman’s throat, hurling her backwards and using her body to take out her brother, leaving both in a sprawled tangle on the snow covered ground.</p><p>Waverly could feel herself tiring, and she felt her blood run cold as Bulshar smirked, rolling the sleeves of his coat up over his forearms. The familiar symbol glowed on his arm; the same fiery lines that had burned on Bobo’s wrist in the moments before he had taken control of her every movement. She pushed back once more, a surge of electricity that met Bulshar's in the middle, the air vibrating as the powers battled against each other.</p><p>She froze. Behind her, John was locked in a battle with the male witch, blood pooling at his nose as he strained to hold off the power. In front of her, the woman’s movements were slow. <em> Too </em> slow, and Waverly’s stomach dropped as she took in the venomous glint in her narrow eyes and the malicious smirk on her pale face, but it was the direction in which she headed that made the world drop from under Waverly’s feet. <em> Nicole</em>. The woman kept her gaze on Waverly’s as she raised a hand, and the intent was clear in her hateful eyes. <em> To kill</em>.</p><p>The flick of the witch's hand was too fast, and Bulshar's power was too strong for Waverly to break her hold. If she let go now, Bulshar would kill her, and the witch would kill Nicole. She needed to stall Bulshar; to take him out for long enough to protect Nicole, and she knew that the only power strong enough to do that was his own. She cried out, adrenaline surging through her body as she pushed, electricity ripping from her fingers like lightning as she deflected Bulshar's power, sending the shock waves flying back at him just as the witch released her fatal shot.</p><p>It was instantaneous. Nicole’s hands flew up to shield herself from the orange bands of fire that flew towards her, but they never came. The air around her shifted, and Waverly's body shifted with it. Threads of her own power connected her body to Nicole’s, and she could feel it pulsing beneath the redhead’s skin, channeling itself through her girlfriend’s fingers. She <em> felt </em> Nicole’s movement's; the power surging through her own blood as the redhead clenched her fists, her body tearing free of the blue vines and she pushed, sending the orange flames hurtling back into the witch's chest, her body falling lifeless to the floor before Nicole’s wide eyes. </p><p>Waverly’s heart hammered in her chest and her mind swam as Nicole’s astounded eyes met her own, the redhead’s chest heaving and her brows furrowed in fearful confusion. <em> What the holy fuck was that?  </em>Did Nicole just <em> channel  </em>Waverly’s power? She had felt it. Felt the connection, felt Nicole’s movements, felt the power; but she <em> knew </em> she hadn’t been the one to control it. Nicole had. The racing thoughts clouded her mind and she lost her focus. It was only a moment, but it was long enough. Bulshar's tattoo lit, his power surged, and Waverly’s body froze. The pain seared in her chest, stronger from Bulshar's hand than it ever had been from Bobo’s. She heard Wynonna and Nicole scream, and she felt the darkness fog her brain, and the life begin to seep from her veins faster than she could process.</p><p>Then something changed. She could physically feel the new presence behind her; deeply familiar, somehow, like it settled in her bones. Bulshar's hold still gripped her, but her power rippled under her skin like it flowed stronger. Like it multiplied. She felt the twitch of her muscles as they began to break their bind, and she forced her body to turn, her eyes widening in astonishment as the new presence took his place beside her. She knew the face so well, though the blue eyes and the sandy hair seemed so much brighter in their tangible reality.</p><p>“<em>J</em><em>ulian?”  </em>She whispered, her voice strained, Bulshar’s hold still draining her energy.</p><p>“Hey, Babygirl.” He grinned, his eyes sparkling despite everything around them, and something in his voice felt like home to Waverly. He winked. “Focus. We’ve got this.” </p><p>He lifted both hands, nodding in encouragement to Waverly as he turned to face Bulshar. Waverly clenched her fists, watching in astonished awe as her father did the same beside her. Bolts of green light burst from both Waverly’s fists and Julian’s, the threads tangling as one in the air before them. The air around the bolt sparked, and it seemed to hang in suspense for a brief moment, before it plunged forward. The force surged into Bulshar’s chest, throwing his body backwards, until it landed, unmoving and unbreathing in the snow before them.</p><p>The quiet stillness was overwhelming<em>. </em> She spun, her eyes searching the scene around her. Wynonna cradled a now conscious Jeremy as John healed his wounds. Beside them, Nicole pulled John’s coat tight around her shoulders, shivering against the wind, weak but free of her binds and her wounds <em> . </em> And to her side, the man she had seen in her dreams all her life stood, real and tangible and <em> alive. </em>She studied his face; the lines she had seen all those nights, and the smile that so resembled her own, and she felt an overwhelming sense of yearning for every minute she had never known with her father. </p><p>“You’re here.” Her voice was still a whisper, but the words sounded so loud in the hushed air around them.  </p><p>"My <em> daughter </em> called me." Julian’s eyes sparkled as the words left his lips, and the corners of his lips tugged into a soft smile.</p><p>“I…” Waverly frowned, her eyes widening as the realisation washed over her. It had been effortless as she had stood in the forest. She had simply opened her mind, and he had simply listened. “You heard me?”</p><p>“You let me in.” He nodded, his eyes flickering with a pride that tugged hard in Waverly’s chest.</p><p>“I-I don’t understand? Our power? Our crest, what… what does it mean?" She closed her eyes, trying to connect the dots in her mind's eye. She had all the pieces, but she couldn’t seem to make them fit, and her heart raced as she realised her answers were finally right in front of her. Her eyes widened, transfixed on Julian’s face as she waited for words she had searched for all her life.</p><p>“We are descendents of one of the first witching families, my girl. The Levine's have always been known to be particularly… <em> empathetic.</em>” Julian grinned, winking playfully. He turned his head, scanning to ensure he couldn't be overheard as he dropped his voice. “We can connect to the minds of those who love us.”</p><p>“That much I was <em> so </em> close to getting…" Waverly screwed her face, the pieces still feeling out of place in her mind. She let the words fall freely, her curiosity finally having an outlet that could give her the answers. "But it seems different with different people, and I thought you were dead so <em> that </em> didn't help, and I thought no witch could control thoughts or feelings, so what does…"</p><p>Waverly trailed off as Julian raised an eyebrow, and she blushed as he chuckled affectionately.</p><p>“You’re most certainly like your mother.” Julian grinned, though a wistful sadness crossed his eyes as he spoke of Michelle. “To answer your question, we can <em> connect </em> , but we cannot control or change the thoughts or feelings. We can only see what is in a person’s mind, <em> if </em>they are open to us doing so. And we can open our own to them. Of course, if both parties know how to open their minds <em> enough</em>, then...”</p><p>“Then we can speak. Communicate,” Waverly whispered in awe, her spine tingling as the words sank in, and she <em> finally </em> understood. Not dreams. A connection. Her father had been trying all her life to teach her the things he hadn’t been able to do in person; to tell her who she really was; what she could <em> do. </em></p><p>“Today, for the first time, I heard you.” Julian beamed, his proud excitement bursting from his eyes. “You tried so hard for so long, but your guard was too strong. All you had to do was let me in.”</p><p>Waverly couldn’t hold back her giggle, giddy with the relief and the excitement of finally having her answers. Of being alive, of having her family safe around her. She turned, beaming as she watched the others run towards her. Her eyes met Nicole’s, and she couldn’t hold herself back any longer, launching herself forwards and into her girlfriend’s arms. She tangled her hands into red hair and pulled her into an urgent kiss; passionate, lingering, and <em> definitely </em> bordering on inappropriate for present company.</p><p>“Julian Levine, as I live and breathe.” </p><p>Waverly pulled back as John’s southern drawl met her ears, and she turned to face him, pulling Nicole’s arms tight around her waist to keep her close. She clenched her fist, feeling rather than hearing her girlfriend’s grateful whisper of thanks against the shell of her ear as the tattered robe and the oversized coat disappeared, leaving the officer in her full uniform, duty belt secure around her waist.</p><p>“John Henry Holliday.” Julian extended his hand, laughing openly as John pulled him into a bear hug, patting him solidly between the shoulders.</p><p>"<em>Please</em>. You know <em> friends </em> call me Doc."</p><p>Waverly smiled as Doc turned, tipping his hat in greeting first to her, and then to Nicole, Wynonna, and Jeremy in turn.</p><p>“I am pleased to make your acquaintance...” Doc addressed Waverly as he spoke. “And I must apologise for the way in which we have met before now.”</p><p>“I don’t understand.” Waverly shook her head, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Do you work <em> with </em> the council, or <em> against </em>them?”</p><p>“Well, <em> both</em>, Miss Earp. Your father and I are council members, but for some time now there has been a rift. Between us we have led the surge of the Uprising.” Doc rolled his eyes, gesturing towards Julian as he spoke. “But someone got himself caught.”</p><p>“The council found out that I was double crossing them, and Bulshar threatened to take my power and exile me. So I ran. I came back to Purgatory,” Julian’s eyes bore into Waverly’s, and with every word he spoke more of the pieces of her visions fell into place. “I came to find my daughter, to warn her of the dangers. To teach her everything I knew, so that she could one day save herself.”</p><p>“But Bulshar was <em> relentless</em>,” Doc continued. “He sent his men, and they searched every alley for Julian. They killed every witch they found, and any non magical person who tried to get in their way.”</p><p>“I was scared that they would follow me to you, Waverly.” Julian’s eyes flashed with fear, the lines of exhaustion mapped across his face in the way that the brunette had seen in her mind, over and over again.</p><p>“So I lied.” Doc’s voice dropped lower, the gravelly drawl carrying the heavy weight of guilt and remorse. “I told Bulshar that I had sought Julian out myself. That I had taken his life. And then I made it my mission to make sure that the witches council could not take yours, and Waverly I am <em> so sorry </em> for my failures. For-for the <em> pain </em>that you had to endure.”</p><p>“Please don’t be. You succeeded, Doc.” Waverly shook her head, her lips curling in a reassuring smile as she gestured gratefully towards Wynonna and Jeremy. “You saved my family, and that’s more than I could ever thank you for.”</p><p>“What happens now?” Wynonna spoke for the first time, her voice unusually soft, and Waverly felt her heart tug as she recognised the vulnerable anxiety in her sister’s eyes. Wynonna was strong, a great cop, and relentless in combat, but this fight was above her and she knew it. “Is it over?”</p><p>“The battle is won,” Doc replied, “but the war is not over.”</p><p>“Take your family back to safety." </p><p>Julian gestured towards the sea of red doors as he spoke, and even from the distance Waverly could see the light glow of the one that she knew must lead them home. She turned to Julian, her stomach clenching at the thought of leaving her father now, so soon after finding him. With so much left to learn, so many questions left to ask. He smiled knowingly, his hands finding her shoulders.</p><p>"Doc and I have a job to do. Keep your mind open, Babygirl. You have more to learn before you can truly fight, and I am here to help you."</p><p>“Officer Haught, I understand that you are an agent of the Black Badge Division?” Doc stepped forward, and Waverly moved aside to allow him to approach Nicole. He held out his hand, tilting his hat with the other and a card materialised between his fingers. “It seems to me that we are fighting for the same side, and I do believe that we can hold more power in a union.”</p><p>Waverly smiled wistfully as Nicole shook Doc’s hand with a grateful nod, sliding the card into her back pocket. With a final cheeky grin in Waverly’s direction, Julian turned away, Doc falling in beside him. Waverly watched them go, her heart battling conflicted emotions as she watched her father leave, leaning back into Nicole’s embrace, and feeling Wynonna’s hand come to rest on her shoulder. She started, a sudden burning thought crossing her mind.</p><p>“Julian, wait…” She rushed forward as he halted, turning back to face her. “Our-our crest… do we have the ability to enable people we lo… we-we <em> care </em> for...” She blushed deeply, glancing back at Nicole to check her girlfriend hadn’t heard the slip of her words. “Can we enable them to use our powers? Like, to channel them?”</p><p>“No, that has never been heard of. Not in anything I’ve ever known.” Julian’s brow creased as he studied Waverly’s ashen face, and he followed her gaze to Nicole. “Why, did something happen?” </p><p>“No!” Waverly barked, quicker than intended. She chuckled awkwardly in an effort to brush it off. Something in the look on Julian’s face discouraged her; forced her to bite back the truth until she understood it. “No, just curious, you know me! Always asking questions!”</p><p>Julian chuckled, shaking his head. His piercing blue eyes scanned her face fondly one last time, before he turned away once more. Waverly stood still, feeling Nicole approach behind her as she watched. She frowned as Doc jogged back to them, his eyes twinkling and his lips curled in a knowing smile.</p><p>“For as long as our history is written, the drawn and the witches have been enemies. There is no record that may tell what could happen when true power meets the truly receptive, Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught.” </p><p>Doc grinned, tipping his hat to each in turn as he backed away. </p><p>“May you make history.”</p><p>Waverly’s heart leapt in her throat, and she could see the same uncertain excitement in Nicole’s eyes as they shared a glance. This was far from over, and there were still so many unanswered questions, but Julian had given her a lifeline, and Waverly would take the chance to learn everything she could. She knew that soon the day would come when they would have to battle in Domhan Draiocht, to fight for the Uprising. But when that day came, they would damn well be ready.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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